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$B    536    512 


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£ 

University  of  California 

FROM  THE    LIBRARY  OK 

DR.    FRANCIS    LIEBER, 
Professor  of  History  oud  Law  in  Columbia  Collet  New  York 


,THf>GIFT  OF 

MICHAEL    REESE, 

Of  San  Francisco.. 
1873. 


A 


T  Doney.sc 


rf.s:  o& 


'/  . 


WRITINGS 

OF 

HUGH  SW1NT0N  LEGA-RE, 

LATE  ATTORNEY  GENERAL 

AND  ACTING  SECRETARY  OF  STATE  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES  \ 

CONSISTING    OF 

A  DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS,  AND  JOURNAL   OF  THE  RHINE; 

EXTRACTS    FROM    HIS 

PRIVATE  AND  DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE  ; 
ORATIONS  AND  SPEECHES  ; 

AND  CONTRIBUTIONS  TO  THE 

NEW-YORK  AND  SOUTHERN  REVIEWS. 

PREFACED   BY  A 

MEMOIR  OF  HIS  LIFE. 

EMBELLISHED    WITH    A    PORTRAIT, 

/  

EDITED  BY  HIS  SISTER. 


IN  TWO  VOLUMES. 

VOL.  L 


CHARLESTON,  S.  C. : 
BURGES  &  JAMES,  6  BROAD-STREET. 

PHILADELPHIA :  THOMAS,  COWPERTHWAIT   &  CO. 

NEW-YORK:    D.    APPLETON    &   CO. 

BOSTON:  JAMES  MUNROE  &  CO. 

1846. 


£ 


Entered  according  to  the  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  184(3, 

By  Mary  S.  Legark, 

In  the  Clerk's  office  of  the  District  of  South-Carolina. 


CHARLESTON: 

Rl  ROKri   AND  JAMK.S,    I'RINTKRS 

'i  BROAO-STRKKT. 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 

VOLUME  I. 


Page. 

1.  Biographical  Notice, *     .  v. 

2.  Diary  of  Brussels,              1 

3.  Journal  of  the  Rhine, 103 

4.  Diplomatic  Correspondence, — 

To  the  Hon.  Edward  Livingston,  Secretary  of  State,            .         .  153 

To  the  same, 156 

To  the  same, 157 

To  the  same, 158 

To  the  same, 161 

To  the  same, 162 

To  the  same, 163 

To  the  same, .         .164 

Mr.  Livingston  to  Mr.  Legare, 167 

To  the  Hon.  Edward  Livingston,  Secretary  of  State,            .        .  168 

To  the  Hon.  Louis  McLane,                "                  "                .  169 

To  the  same, 170 

To  the  same, 173 

To  the  same, 177 

To  the  same, 185 

To  the  same, 188 

To  the  Hon.  John  Forsyth,  Secretary  of  State 196 

To  the  same, ,  198 

To  the  same, 199 

To  the  same, 200 

5.  Private  Correspondence, — 

Mr.  Legare  to  the  Hon.  Isaac  E.  Holmes, 203 

"            to  the  Hon.  Alfred  Huger 216 

"            to  the  same, 219 

"            to  the  same, 221 

H            to  his  Sister, 225 


TABLE    OF    CONTENTS. 


Mr.  Legare  to  Henry  Middleton,  Esq., 
"  to  the  same, 

44  to  Thomas  C.  Reynolds,  Esq. 

44  to  the  same, 

44  to  the  same, 

44  to  the  same, 

44  to  his  Sister, 

44  to  the  same, 

44  to  the  same, 

44  to  the  same, 

44  to  the  same, 

44  to  his  Sisters, 

44  to  his  Mother, 

44  to  his  Sister, 

6.  Oration  on  the  4th  of  July,  1823, 

7.  Speech  before  the  Union  Party, 

8.  Spirit  of  the  Sub-Treasury, 

9.  Recognition  of  Hayti, 

10.  Southern  Naval  Depot,     . 

11.  Official  Defalcations, 

12.  Arbitrement  of  National  Disputes, 

13.  The  Constitutional  History  of  Greece, 

14.  Demosthenes,  the  Man,  the  Statesman  and  the  Orator, 

15.  The  Origin,  History  and  Influence  of  Roman  Legislation, 


229 
230 
231 
233 
234 
235 
236 
238 
241 
243 
244 
ib. 
250 
251 
257 
270 
280 
322 
329 
338 
354 
367 
443 
502 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE. 


To  have  joined,  in  a  degree  singular  every  where,  the  studies  of 
the  closet  with  practical  life  in  several  of  its  most  difficult  forms :  to 
have  plunged,  with  an  early  passion  of  scholarship,  into  its  vigils, 
never  afterwards  intermitted,  and  yet  not  to  have  stiffened  into  the 
pedant  or  the  professor:  after  attaining  the  command  of  Arts  and 
Learning,  to  have  known  how  to  rise  to  a  far  nobler,  rarer  thing,  and 
bring  them  into  the  vigorous  service  of  active  affairs  and  the  great 
world :  not  to  have  studied  himself  out  of  the  native  strength  of  his 
parts,  but  only  into  their  readier  and  surer  exercise :  not  to  have  lost 
himself  in  words  or  systems,  but  turned  their  mastery  into  that  of 
things:  to  have  filled  himself  to  the  lips  with  languages  without 
spoiling  his  own,  and  with  literature  without  losing  his  originality : 
in  a  country  of  rapidity  and  shallowness,  where  to  do  quickly  and 
popularly  is  to  do  successfully,  to  have  dared  to  be  solid  and  sincere  : 
unabated  in  his  purposes  by  public  inappreciation,  the  luck  of  igno- 
rance, the  jeers  of  blockheads,  to  have  held  on  his  courageous  way 
to  honor:  to  have  scorned  all  success,  but  that  which  is  seized  and 
bome  off  by  the  mere  strong  hand  and  violence  of  ability  and  merit : 
as  a  lawyer,  pausing  little  at  forms,  technicalities,  the  jargon  of  the 
science,  the  mere  symbols  of  its  knowledge,  to  have  grasped,  from  the 
outset,  at  all  those  nearly  unattempted  resorts,  that  should  make  a 
light  and  an  era  in  jurisprudence  amongst  us :  as  an  orator,  to  have 
armed  himself  with  an  eloquence,  not  the  mere  happiness  or  ill  abun- 
dance of  such  speech,  glittering  and  facile,  as  popular  institutions 
at  once  make  common  and  forbid  to  rise  to  art  the  most  consummate, 
but  such  as  vied,  in  regularity,  force  and  polish,  with  the  glories  of 
classic  greatness :  as  a  statesman,  to  have  made  his  way,  through  a 
succession  of  important  trusts  up  to  nearly  the  most  eminent,  almost 
without  popular  favor,  in  a  country  where  that  favor  is  all  in  all,  to 
blow,  like  the  wind,  where  it  listeth,  and  to  fall,  like  the  rain,  upon 


VI.  BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE. 

the  godly  and  ungodly  alike :  in  such  stations,  to  have  won,  even 
amid  those  furies  of  party,  which  make  of  our  politics  little  else  than 
hostile  camps,  and  a  perpetual  civil  war  without  the  honor  of  arms, 
the  respect  and  regrets  of  all  parties  at  once: — these  things  are  the 
praise  of  him  whose  life  we  are  about  to  relate,  with  as  little  exagge- 
ration or  partiality,  as  a  warm  personal  attachment  will  permit. 

Hugh  Swinton  Legare,  the  son  of  Solomon  Legare,  junr.,  and  of 
Mary  Swinton  his  wife,  was  born  in  Charleston,  S.  C,  on  the  2nd 
January,  1797.  On  the  father's  side,  he  was  of  that  Huguenot  race, 
the  incunabula  of  many  of  the  best  families  of  his  State,  whom  the 
same  spirit,  which  drove  the  ''Pilgrims"  of  New-England  to  its  then 
dreary  coast,  led  to  seek  Freedom  under  a  more  genial  sky  and  gentler 
institutions,  planned  by  the  philosophic  liberality  of  Locke,  but  des- 
tined— except  in  the  real  religious  equality,  the  legal  toleration 
which  they  were  the  first  to  establish — to  endure,  like  other  instances 
of  extemporized  Constitutions  and  philosophic  visions  of  government, 
barely  until  they  had  been  reduced  to  practice. 

On  the  maternal  side,  he  was  of  a  lineage  still  more  strenuous — 
that  of  those  Scottish  Swintons,  celebrated  for  their  prowess  in  the 
traditions  of  the  Border  which  they  long  defended ;  one  of  whom, 
"stout  Sir  Alan,"  figures  in  the  animated  page  of  Froissart  and  in  his 
copyist,  Sir  Walter  Scott.*     The  genealogy,  lost  in  every  other  form, 

*  See  his  "Halidon  Hill,"  Sir  Alan  is  its  hero.  The  notes  contain  various  re- 
ferences to  the  history  of  the  family,  of  whom,  this  chief  was  the  companion  of 
the  Bruce.  Sir  Walter  says  of  them,  in  his  Preface,  after  reciting  Pinkerton's 
account  of  the  part  Sir  Alan  played  in  the  battle  of  Halidon  Hill,  "The  tradi- 
tion of  the  Swinton  family,  which  still  survives  in  lineal  descent,  and  to  which  the 
author  has  the  honor  to  be  related,  avers,"  etc.  He  afterwards  describes,  as  they 
really  were,  his  remarkable  person,  his  extraordinary  prowess,  and  the  cogni- 
zance of  his  family : 

"There  needed  not,  to  blazon  forth  the  Swinton, 
His  ancient  burgonet,  the  sable  boar 
Chain'd  to  the  gnarled  oak,  nor  his  proud  step, 
Nor  giant  stature,  nor  the  ponderous  mace, 
Which  only  he,  of  Scotland's  realm,  can  wield  : 
His  discipline  and  wisdom  mark  the  leader, 
As  doth  his  frame  the  champion." 

Douglas,  in  his  "Baronage,"  p.  132,  says,  "The  armorial  bearings  of  the  ancient 
family  of  Swinton  are  sable,  a  cheveron,  or,  between  three  boar's  heads  erased, 
argent.  Crest,  a  boar  chained  to  a  tree,  and  above,  on  an  escroll,  J'espere.  Sup- 
porters, two  boars  standing  on  a  compartment,  whereon  are  the  words,  Je 
pense.v  Scott  makes  them  trace  their  feats  up  "to  the  old  days  of  Malcolm  call'd 
the  maiden  ;"  who  belongs  to  some  date  that  was  very  old  in  Bruce's  time.    We 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE.  Vli. 

is  still  assured,  among  their  American  descendants,  by  one  of  those 
-domestic  marks  which  even  Democracy,  in  its  enmity  of  all  distinc- 
tions, but  slowly  obliterates — the  transmission,  from  generation  to  ge- 
neration, of  certain  favorite  baptismal  names.  Those  of  Hugh  and 
Alan,  proper  to  the  Swintons  of  that  ilk,  of  Simprin-Mains  and  Swin- 
ton-duarter,  seem  of  frequent  recurrence  among  the  Carolinian  race. 
Of  the  precise  date  of  their  migration  hither,  we  are  not  informed. 
William  Swinton,  the  grand-father  of  Mrs.  Legare,  is  believed  to 
have  been  sent  out,  as  Surveyor-General  of  the  Province,  some  time 
between  1721  and  1731.  The  family  names  were  William,  Hugh 
and  Alexander.  They  are  reputed,  however,  to  have  been  Covenant- 
ers; so  that  he  of  whom  we  write  mixed  in  his  veins  whatever  of 
either  French  or  Scottish  blood  was  inimical  to  tyrants - 

His  progenitor,  Solomon  Legare,  the  first  emigrant  of  the  name, 
from  whom  he  was  fifth  in  descent,  left  his  native  land  for  America  in 
1695  or  1696,  and  fixed  his  residence  in  the  north-eastern  part  of  the 
city  of  Charleston.  Acquiring  in  that  quarter  of  the  town  a  consi- 
derable landed  property,  he  bestowed  it  upon  two  of  his  sons  and  a 
daughter :  while,  purchasing  another  body,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
city,  traversed  by  a  street  which  still  bears  his  name,  he  left  this,  en- 
tire, to  his  son  Solomon,  the  father  of  Thomas,  whose  son,  a  third  So- 
lomon, was  the  father  of  Hugh  Swinton  Legare.  The  city  estate 
thus  inherited  by  the  second  Legare  he  sold,  in  great  part, — purchas- 
ing, in  its  stead,  possessions  on  the  neighboring  John's  Isand  ;  which 
henceforth  became  the  chief  seat  of  that  branch  of  the  family,  and 
where  still  remain,  in  the  possession  of  those  of  the  name,  two  an- 
cient mansions,  erected  by  their  forefather,  the  son  of  the  emigrant.* 

find  a  modern  Swinton  one  of  the  authors  of  the  great  "Universal  History," 
Another  Swinton,  to  whom  we  cannot  now  more  precisely  refer,  is  said  to  have 
made,  on  his  estate  of  Swintondale,  one  of  the  earliest  attempts  at  what  has  since 
become  the  steam-boat. 

*  The  South-Carolina  Gazette,  of  the  year  1760,  contains  the  subjoined  notice 
of  the  death  of  the  original  emigrant : 

"Died,  on  the  8th  May,  1760,  Mr.  Solomon  Legare,  Senr.,  in  the  87th  year  of 
5iis  age — one  of  the  oldest  settlers  in  this  Province.    He  had  been  here  64  years." 

The  steps  of  descent  and  alliance  are  traced  as  follows  : 

I.  Solomon  Legare",  the  Huguenot  emigrant. 

II.  Solomon,  the  son  ;  who  intermarried  with  Mary  Stock. 

III.  Thomas,  the  grandson  ;  intermarried  with  Elizabeth  Barnet. 

IV.  Solomon,  the  great-grandson ;  who,  intermarrying  with  Mary,  the  daugh- 
ter of  Hugh  Swinton  and  of  Susannah  Splatt  his  wife,  became  the  father  of  Hugh 
Swinton  Legare\ 


▼111.  BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE. 

Of  Solomon  Legare,  Jr.,  the  father  of  the  late  Attorney  General, 
we  are  in  possession  of  few  particulars  beyond  his  early  death  :  a  mis- 
fortune usually  involving,  to  male  children — especially  if  there  be  but 
one — ill-governed  youth  and  a  neglected  education.*  These  were, 
however,  in  this  instance,  averted,  partly  by  the  admirable  qualities 
of  the  mother,  partly  by  the  strong  faculties  of  the  boy,  betokened  al- 
most from  his  cradle ;  and  what  seemed,  at  first,  another  cruel  cala- 
mity, came  only  to  aid,  at  the  expense  of  his  body,  his  intellectual  de- 
velopment. 

He  was  born  of  fine  and  singularly  large  proportions,  which  up  to 
his  fourth  year  promised  the  strength  and  the  stature  of  his  stalwart 
ancestry,  those  baronial  prickers  who,  for  a  thousand  years  keeping 
the  Borders,  won  such  titles  and  attributes  of  arms  as  "John  with  the 
Long  Spear" — "Archibald  of  the  Axe" — "Richard  the  Ready" — or 
"Stout  Sir  Alan,"  "of  that  huge  mace  still  seen  where  war  was  wild- 
est."! But,  at  that  age,  it  became  necessary  to  inoculate  him  with 
the  small-pox :  the  artificial  disease  took  a  more  than  usual  viru- 
lence :  medical  mismanagement  probably  aggravated  it ;  and  it  finally 
put  on  the  confluent  form,  fixing  itself  upon  the  larger  joints  (his  el- 
bows and  knees)  in  deep  imposthumes.  These  kept  him  for  some 
three  months  on  his  back,  utterly  helpless,  and  at  length  so  mere  a 
skeleton  that,  from  stout  as  he  had  been,  he  came  to  be,  for  some 
time,  borne  about  by  his  mother  on  a  pillow.  When  these  wasting 
tumours  were  at  last  dissipated,  they  left  him  his  fine  trunk  greatly 
enfeebled,  though  otherwise  unimpaired;  but  with  limbs  which, 
though  stout,  never  afterwards  grew  to  their  proper  length  or  shape- 
liness. For  eight  or  nine  years,  he  is  said  scarcely  to  have  gained  in 
height  at  all ;  and  then,  on  his  transfer  to  school  and  college  in  the 
upper  country,  to  have  shot  up,  with  great  rapidity ;  but  it  was  in  the 
superior  part  of  his  person  almost  entirely ;  for  while  his  chest,  bust 
and  head  became  those  of  a  very  fine  torso,  his  members  remained 
those  of  a  very  short  man.  Seated,  his  length  of  body  set  off  by  a 
broad  and  manly  chest,  a  noble  head,  and  an  air  unusually  imposing — 
he  looked  of  commanding  person ;  but  risen,  he  seemed  suddenly 
to  have  shrunk  out  of  his  bodily  advantages.  The  defective  con- 
formation thus  superinduced,  unfitted  him,  in  boyhood  for  its  sports,  in 
manhood  for  its  exercises,  and  so  consigned  him,  as  sickliness  did 
Pope,  or  distortion  of  the  feet  Scott  and  Byron,  to  intellectual  activity 

*  The  Gracchi  and  Sir  William  Jones  afford  the  most  remarkable  exceptions. 
1  Scott,  "Halidon  Hill,"  Act  ii.,  Scene  3. 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE.  IX 

and  the  relief  of  study  only.  In  these  he  sought  and  found  noble 
compensation  for  whatever  he  had  lost  in  strength  or  beauty  of  limbs. 
The  instincts  of  a  powerful  nature,  which  might  else  have  found  vent 
in  robuster  pursuits  and  a  more  vulgar  excellence,  were  thus  compres- 
sed into  all  the  vehemence  of  a  single  feeling — the  necessity  of  know- 
ledge and  its  delights — the  passion  of  mastering  other  men  with  his 
mind,  since  he  could  no  longer  hope  to  master  them  with  his  body. 

The  domestic  traditions,  however — -those  fond  personal  romances, 
woven  between  Memory  and  Imagination,  which  delight  to  embellish 
and  magnify  into  auguries  of  greatness  each  little  fact  of  the  child- 
hood of  remarkable  people — are  not  wanting  in  the  recollection  of 
presages  of  his  genius,  that  appeared  from  his  tenderest  age.  There 
could  usually  need,  in  truth,  little  but  a  recurrence  to  the  fancies — for- 
gotten, like  dreams,  when  the  event  has  not  confirmed  them — awa- 
kened in  mothers  and  nurses  by  each  childish  trait,  in  order  to  establish, 
in  almost  any  person's  favour,  these  promises  of  something  extraordi- 
nary. Probably  if  all  the  world  turned  out  sages  or  heroes — which 
were  perhaps  a  pity — the  authentic  legends  of  every  body's  surprising 
infancy  would  be  much  the  same.  So,  at  least,  in  concession  to  the 
rationalism  of  an  age  averse  to  prodigies  of  every  sort,  except  Mes- 
merism, Millerism,  Paper  Constitutions,  Hydropathy  and  Progressive 
Democracy,  we  are  willing  to  argue:  but  we  ourselves  have  a  faith 
less  material,  and  love,  when  we  believe  in  fables,  that  they  should  be 
of  the  older  kind,  such  as  Voltaire  demolished  without  and  Niebuhr 
with  learning — the  fables  of  God,  and  those  fables  of  a  prodigious  and 
inborn  personal  superiority  which — perhaps  with  not  a  little  loss  to 
mankind — must  cease,  like  other  miracles,  when  checked  by  an  uni- 
versal refusal  to  believe  that  such  things  can  be. 

Be  all  this  as  it  may,  and  whether  or  not  it  be  as  wise  as  it  is  nat- 
ural that  an  Age  of  Littleness  should  discredit  individual  eminence, 
just  as  a  world  of  Pigmies  must  be  expected  to  disbelieve  in  Giants, 
it  is  none  the  less  our  business  as  historians  to  manage  this  mytho- 
logical period  in  our  subject  as  grave  writers  have  so  often  done  the 
fabulous  ages  of  Greek,  Roman  and  other  annals.  Positive  facts 
being  few,  we  must  recite  myths  or  allegories ;  and,  as  geographers 
were  formerly  wont  to  scatter  about  those  unknown  parts,  which  they 
could  not  otherwise  figure  in  their  maps,  monsters  such  as  Zoology 
has  never  been  able  to  describe,  so  must  we  fill  this  part  of  our  page 
with  what,  perhaps,  that  which  entitles  itself  Criticism  and  delights  in 
disenchanting  us  of  many  things  noble  or  agreeable  or  useful  to  believe, 

VOL.   I. A 


X.  BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE. 

will  refuse  to  accept  as  any  thing  but  poetic  inventions  or  even  nursery 
tales. 

He  is  reputed,  then,  in  the  domestic  reminiscences,  to  have  spoken 
at  a  remarkably  early  age,  and  to  have  betrayed,  when  but  a  little 
older,  singular  gleams  of  reflection  and  sense.  As  a  child  even,  his 
air,  manners  and  habits  bespoke  something  unusual,  something  entirely 
superior  to  his  years — indications  of  a  marked  and  fine  individuality. 
These  were  no  doubt  much  assisted  by  the  powerful  mould  of  the 
person  in  which  he  was  originatly  cast,  a  large  and  strikingly  deve- 
loped head,  and  well-proportioned  features,  full  of  all  the  elements  of 
thought  and  passion.  Such  as  we  know  him  first  by  report,  in  a  dis- 
tant State,  whither  some  of  his  companions  and  his  chief  rival  at 
college  and  elsewhere  brought  the  fame  (as  it  was  for  a  youth  of  17 
or  18)  of  his  extraordinary  abilities — such  as  we  afterwards  knew 
him,  certainly  far  the  most  accomplished  person  and  most,  powerful 
genius  that  we  have  ever  met — and  such  as  we  know  that  he  seemed  y 
at  every  part  of  his  life,  from  his  first  school  upwards,  to  all  who  re- 
marked him  as  his  elders  or  contended  with  him  as  his  equals,  we,  at 
least,  are  perfectly  prepared  to  receive  as  genuine  all  that  his  family 
relate  of  the  earliest  tokens  which  he  gave  of  parts  the  most  vigorous 
and  of  tendencies  the  most  invincible  to  the  utmost  intellectual  excel- 
lence to  which  one  could  be  bred  up  in  the  country  and  at  the  time  to 
which  he  belonged.  We  have  never  seen  any  other  instance  of  so 
powerful  a  determination  towards  a  consummate  cultivation  of  all  the 
arts  that  are  fit  to  crown  admirable  gifts  with  every  advantage  of 
complete  discipline ;  and  these  things  were  in  him  so  much  beyond 
any  thing  we  ever  witnessed  in  others,  that  we  consider  it  certain  that 
his  "strong  nativity"  of  knowledge  must  have  displayed  itself  be- 
times. 

It  appears  that  he  learnt  to  read  in  his  mother's  arms,  while  borne 
about  and  tended  in  the  manner  that  we  have  already  described ;  and 
that,  in  the  long  feebleness  of  his  lower  limbs  left  even  by  returning 
health,  the  new-found  treasure  of  books  must  have  become  his  main 
delight.  It  was  probably  at  this  first  period  of  study  (as  it  is  no  abuse 
to  call  it  for  him,  even  from  the  first)  that  he  contracted  the  taste  which 
we  have  often  heard  him  express  for  what  had  not  yet  been  banished 
by  the  Barbauld  and  de  Genlis  child's  literature — the  older  tales,  we 
mean,  of  giants  and  pigmies,  enchantments  and  fairy-land — the  puis- 
sant Tom  Thumb ;  or  him  of  the  giants,  Jack ;  or  the  veracious  voya- 
ger, Gulliver ;   or  the  delicious  wonders  of  the  Arabian  story-tellers  ; 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE.  XL 

or  that  master-piece  of  probable  fiction,  Robinson  Crusoe,  in  every 
thing  of  this  sort,  he  was  deeply  read,  and  was  accustomed  to  dictate 
afterwards  on  their  superiority  to  what  has  displaced  them,  for  the 
formation  of  the  young  mind — the  sensible  or  instructive  books,  that 
would  have  children  learn  what  men  learn— that  teach  just  science  or 
*act  enough  to  forestal,  not  inform,  and  take  the  edge  off  curiosity — 
books,  in  a  word,  which,  before  yet  the  fancy  or  the  feelings  have  been 
formed,  inculcate  advanced  and  multiplied  morals  for  those  who  are 
still  incapable  of  experience  and  led  chiefly  by  the  senses.  For  that 
age  the  compositions  are  fittest  which  captivate  the  most.  Leave  it 
to  the  boy  himself,  and  see  what  he  will  devour !  In  this,  indeed,  we 
have  a  guide  obvious  enough :  the  natural  process  of  knowledge  is 
necessarily  just  that  which  the  rise  of  knowledge  itself  has  followed 
among  men :  it  begins  among  rude  nations  with  tales  and  songs,  with 
what  affects  the  imagination  and  the  heart ;  and  advances  long  after- 
wards to  positive  science.  Barbarous  nations  are  but  larger  and  fairer 
children.  If  these  things  seem  out  of  place  here,  we  have  been  led  to 
them,  as  the  opinions  of  him  concerning  whom  we  write.  They  have 
their  place  in  his  life,  since  they  were  a  part  of  his  mind,  and  proba- 
bly had  their  influence  over  its  formation* 

Indeed,  the  care  of  such  a  mother  as  it  was  Legare's  happiness  to 
have ;  made,  as  it  was,  doubly  solicitous  by  his  becoming,  through  the 
loss  of  his  father,  her  undivided  charge,  and  by  the  helpless  condition 
to  which  she  saw  him,  her  chief  hope,  reduced  by  disease— has  an 
image  probably  as  just  as  it  is  sweet  in  the  picture  which  a  poet 
has  drawn  of  the  education  of  one  of  the  opposite  sex  by  a  widowed 
father : 

I  may  not  paint  those  thousand  infant  charms, 

(Unconscious  fascination,  undesigned !) 

The  orison,  repeated  in  his  arms, 

For  God  to  bless  her  sire  and  all  mankind — 

The  book,  the  bosom  on  his  knee  reclined — 

Or  how  sweet  fairy-love  he  heard  her  con, 

The  play-mate,  e'er  the  teacher,  of  her  mind. 

All  uncompanion'd  else  her  years  had  gone, 

"Till  now  in  Gertrude's  eyes  their  ninth  blue  summer  shone."* 

The  piety,  the  affection,  the  charity,  the  early  love  of  knowledge, 
the  tender  care  repaid  with  caresses  as  tender,  and  probably  the  fairy- 
love  were  all  parts  of  this  excellent  mother's  system:  for  she  was 
clearly  wise  enough  to  be  "the  play -mate  e'er  the  teacher  of  his  mind," 

*  Campbell,  Gertrude  of  Wyoming,  Canto  I. 


XII.  BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE, 

Between  his  fourth  year  and  his  sixth,  when  he  was  first  sent  out 
to  school,  he  had  probably,  with  the  boundless  curiosity  which  he 
possessed,  read  much  and  formed,  what  is  best  formed  by  this  earliest 
reading,  a  good  English.  For  'tis  not  at  school  that  a  boy  ever  gets 
a  good  knowledge  of  his  own  tongue,  let  him  learn  there  whatever 
else  he  may.  'Tis  much  reading,  and  not  teacher's  work,  which 
gives  him  that.  But  we  find  his  first  master,  Mr,  Ward,  (an  English- 
man then  teaching  in  Charleston,)  declaring  to  his  mother,  when,  in 
his  ninth  year,  he  became  importunate  to  be  taught  Latin,  and  she 
resisted  it  because  she  supposed  him  unprepared,  "that  he  was  very 
far  advanced  in  English,  a  boy  of  high  talents,,  fine  taste  and  great 
industry."  His  course  with  this  instructor,  then,  was  probably  the 
usual  rudimentary  one  in  English — grammar,  geography,  the  ele- 
ments'of  history  and  arithmetic. 

Yielding  now  to  the  opinion  of  Mr.  Ward  and  to  his  own  urgent 
wishes,  his  mother  transferred  him  to  the  care  of  a  Catholic  priest, 
Dr.  Gallagher,  reputed,  in  that  day,  the  most  eminent  classical 
teacher  of  Charleston.  Under  this  master,  with  whom  he  seems  to 
have  remained  two  or  three  j'ears,  we  know  not  precisely  what  was 
his  progress :  we  only  learn  that  it  was  such  that  the  reverend  Dr. 
himself,  an  enthusiast  in  Latin  literature  and  in  eloquence,  but  ap- 
parently somewhat  national  in  his  favorite  models  of  the  latter,  took 
the  greatest  delight  and  pride  in  him,  pronounced  that  he  would  be 
"an  honor  to  his  country  for  erudition,  and,  as  an  orator,  the  Cur  ran 
and  Burke  of  America."  Mr.  Legare  himself  was  accustomed,  at 
any  event,  to  say  that  it  was  to  Dr.  Gallagher  that  he  owed  his 
passion  for  classical  letters  generally,  and  much  of  his  knowledge 
of  Latin ;  while  it  was  to  Dr.  Waddel  (his  next  teacher  but  one) 
that  he  was  indebted  for  his  love  of  Greek. 

We  have  here  on  the  part  of  Dr  Gallagher,  a  very  bold  prediction, 
when  uttered  (as  it  certainly  was)  of  a  boy  less  than  12  years  old: 
bold,  we  mean,  of  course,  omitting  that  other  glory  of  Hibernian  ora- 
tory, who  was  such  an  exaggeration  of  Burke's  greatest  blemishes  as 
the  rhapsodical  Counsellor  Phillips  was  of  his.  It  would  be  difficult, 
indeed,  to  fix  on  any  one  that  has  arisen  among  us  so  fit  to  be  put  in 
parallel  with  the  great  smiter  of  Jacobinism  as  was  Legare.  Ample 
as  was  that  illustrious  man's  erudition ;  wide  and  noble  as  his  range 
of  public  knowledge  ;  in  these  and  in  the  entire  command  of  one  great 
practical  pursuit  (Jurisprudence)  Legare  certainly  excelled  him;  while 
he  as  certainly  surpassed  him  in  all  that  gives  success  to  the  uttered 
harangue.     As  an  author,  bating  that  they  cannot  fairly  be  compared 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE,  Xlll, 

who  died  at  ages  so  different,  an  entire  superiority  must,  on  the  other 
hand,  be  assigned  to  Burke — the  more  especially  as  his  speeches  be- 
long rather  to  written  than  to  spoken  eloquence.  Asa  great  political 
philosopher  again — we  mean  a  statesman  and  politician  in  the  largest 
and  best  sense,  and  not  a  metaphysician  and  sophister  of  public  things, 
such  as  we  could  name  if  it  were  worth  while — the  palm  over  all 
moderns,  except  the  mighty  Florentine  secretary,  must  be  assigned  to 
Burke.  But  here  again,  in  favour  of  one  whose  legislative  career  on 
a  sufficient  theatre  was  so  short  and  yet  ennobled  by  such  admirable 
speeches — one  of  which,  in  particular  (that  on  the  Sub-Treasury)  need 
shun  the  comparison  of  ability  with  none  of  Burke's — large  allow- 
ances must  be  made  for  inferior  age  or  occasion  or  audience.  The 
various  papers  of  Legare  on  the  Democratic  politics  of  Greece  are  of 
a  merit,  at  least  approaching  to  that  of  the  productions  which  consti- 
tute Burke's  superiority —his  several  discourses  on  the  French  Revo- 
lution. Now,  these  were  written  under  all  the  advantages  of  a  present 
event  the  most  agitating  and  appalling,  by  a  man  above  60 ;  and  those 
by  one  full  20  years  younger.  In  the  cast  of  their  genius,  of  their 
public  virtues,  and  even,  in  no  small  degree  of  their  opinions,  they 
were  much  alike.  Originally,  the  American's  tendency  was  to  the 
investing  philosophic  thought  and  what  may  be  called  intellectual 
passion  in  a  diction  ornate  and  imaginative,  like  Burke's.  In  his 
progress  of  practice  and  thought,  however,  he  turned  this  gorgeousness 
of  a  strong  imagination  to  its  legitimate  and  merely  occasional  office; 
and  arrived  at  a  manner  more  vigorous,  by  dint  of  being  simpler  and 
purer.  His  style  grew  to  be  for  use  that  of  Fox,  for  richness — where 
richness  could  be  permitted — that  of  Burke.  In  a  word,  he  became 
of  a  true  vehemence,  a  Demosthenian  severity  and  fire ;  while  Burke, 
rarely  addressing  tumultuary  audiences,  never  shook  off  his  almost 
unvarying  Ciceronian  pomp.  Let  us,  however,  return  to  our  narrative, 
perhaps  already  interrupted  too  much. 

For  what  cause  he  was  now,  somewhere  in  his  eleventh  year,  trans- 
lated from  the  school  of  so  able  a  master  to  another,  we  do  not  learn. 
Probably  enough  it  was  out  of  a  special  personal  admiration  for  the  gen- 
tleman (Mr.  Mitchell  King,  afterwards  an  eminent  lawyer  and  not 
long  since,  under  circumstances  signally  honorable,  Recorder  and 
Judge  of  the  City  Court  of  Charleston*)  then  at  the  head  of  the  lat- 

*  The  remarkable  trait  of  beneficence  here  alluded  to  cannot  be  more  authenti- 
cally given  than  in  the  subjoined  statement  of  the  Charleston  Courier.    We  our- 


XIV.  BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE. 

ter — the  High  School  as  it  really  was,  of  Charleston.  It  has  since 
risen  into  what  it  was  originally,  in  1785,  incorporated  to  be,  the  local 
college  of  that  very  cultivated  city ;  and  through  fortunes  suffering  long 
under  what  may  be  called  the  competition  of  its  state,  with  its  abun- 
dantly endowed  institution  at  Columbia,  now  flourishes,  under  not  a 
numerous  but  a  highly  efficient  Faculty  and  the  presidency  of  one  who 
conciliates  for  it  a  deserved  esteem. 

Under  Mr.  King's  care,  every  way  enlightened  and  affectionate, 
young  Legare  remained  between  12  and  18  months,  that  is,  until 
he  had  completed  his  13th  year.  From  the  lessons  of  one  not  des- 
tined to  teach  until  his  own  knowledge  had  congealed  into  that  of 
the  mere  pedagogue,  but  of  a  better,  freer,  more  general  scholarship, 
fit  to  be,  as  it  presently  became  in  Mr.  K.  the  instrument  of  high 
active  pursuits,  his  pupil  cannot  have  failed  to  derive  if  not  a  large 
addition  to  his  positive  knowledge,  yet  much  as  to  the  taste,  spirit 
and  aims  that  .were  to  give  it  life.  Certain  it  is  that  they  formed 
for  each  other  a  regard  which  continued  faithfully  through  life  and 

selves  had,  in  another  form,  spoken  of  the  fact  upon  distant  and  inexact  informa- 
tion, as  follows. 

"Mr.  King,  after  a  laborious  life,  distinguished  as  much  by  merit  as  by  success, 
has  crowned  a  long  professional  career  by  accepting,  in  a  very  singular  manner, 
a  high  judicial  appointment,  of  which  the  salary  is  appropriated  to  the  support 
of  the  almost  destitute  family  of  his  predecessor." — American  Review,  No.  10.  p. 
417. 

The  Courier  of  Oct.  25.  1845,  supplies  a  correcter  and  minuter  account  of  the 
circumstances : 

"The  tribute  to  Judge  King  is  one  richly  merited  by  that  erudite  scholar,  emi- 
nent lawyer  and  benevolent  gentleman ;  but  is  somewhat  inaccurate  in  detail. 
He  is  not  still  the  incumbent  of  the  judicial  chair  (as  one  would  infer  from 
the  tense  in  which  the  reviewer  speaks),  which  benevolence  and  public  spirit 
alone  induced  him  to  occupy  only  for  a  season.  When  the  late  estimable  Judge 
Axson,  Recorder  of  the  City  and  Judge  of  the  City  Court  of  Charleston,  was 
providentially  struck  down  by  paralysis,  in  the  prime  of  life  and  usefulness, 
Judge  King,  at  great  personal  sacrifice  and  inconvenience,  kindly  accepted  the  of- 
fice of  Additional  Recorder,  and  discharged  the  duties  of  the  station  gratuitously,  in 
order  that  Judge  Axson  might  continue  in  the  full  receipt  of  his  salary  ;  and,  on 
the  death  of  that  lamented  functionary,  he  consented  to  serve  for  a  few  months 
longer,  receiving  the  salary  only  to  bestow  it  on  the  family  of  the  deceased — and 
then,  voluntarily  vacated  the  office  to  resume  his  suspended  professional  engage- 
ments and  literary  pursuits." 

Merely  as  an  author,  and  quite  apart  from  the  personal  regard  in  which  we 
have  cause  to  hold  this  excellent  gentleman,  we  rejoice  to  be  able  to  brighten  our 
page  with  an  act  of  such  singular  disinterestedness. 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE.  XV. 

of  which  the  tokens  are  before  us  in  a  long  and  intimate  interchange 
of  letters.  Nor,  indeed,  were  their  relations  as  master  and  pupil  to 
cease,  when  they  terminated  in  the  academic  form :  for  when  Legare 
exchanged,  a  few  years  later,  the  studies  of  a  college  for  those  of  a 
profession,  it  was  in  Mr.  King's  office  that  he  began  to  prepare  him- 
self for  the  bar. 

Meantime,  offering  a  trait  of  character  in  him  and  of  judgment  in 
his  mother,  we  must  not  pass  unmentioned  the  only  fact  which  we 
have  heard  of  this  part  of  his  school  life.  As  probably  of  junior 
pupils  and  a  boy  of  one  of  the  lower  forms,  he  seems  to  have  been 
under  the  immediate  care  of  a  harsh  or  injudicious  usher,  little  obser- 
vant of  the  boy's  temper  or  perhaps  of  justice  ;  who  for  some  slight 
cause  one  day  disgraced  him  in  his  own  eyes  by  a  blow.  That  eve- 
ning, boiling  with  indignation  at  the  unmerited  dishonor  which  had 
never  before  been  inflicted  upon  him,  he  returned  to  his  mother,  im- 
ploring her  to  remove  him  from  the  school ;  protesting  that  he  had 
been  unjustly  degraded,  and  that  he  could  not,  would  not  endure  it. 
She,  however  moved  by  the  strong  sense  of  wrong  and  shame  which 
showed  itself  in  his  violent  emotion,  was  too  steady  and  too  wise  to 
yield  to  his  unexamined  representations  and  perhaps  thus  teach  that 
he  was  always  to  be  sustained  against  his  teachers.  She  calmed 
him,  therefore,  with  the  assurance  that  the  matter  should  be  looked 
into,  and  meanwhile  privately  saw  the  head  master.  He  no  sooner 
heard  what  had  happened  than  he  pronounced  that  the  usher  must 
have  acted  injudiciously  at  least  ;  that  the  boy  was  clearly  one  with 
whom  everything  could  be  done  without  blows  and  whom  a  blow 
might  ruin :  'twas  too  generous  a  spirit  to  be  treated  in  that  way.  He 
suggested,  therefore,  to  Mrs.  L.  to  send  her  son  back  to  school,  with  the 
healing  assurance  that  Mr.  King  desired  to  take  him  under  his  own 
charge:  which  was  accordingly  done. 

About  the  close  of  his  13th  year,  his  mother,  probably  now  con- 
sulting rather  the  physical  benefits  to  his  feeble  frame  to  be  derived 
from  an  upland  school,  than  any  expectation  of  a  better  teacher ;  or 
perhaps  under  the  sound  idea  that  he  had  now  reached  the  age  when 
the  effeminacy  of  a  home  education  should  be  broken — determined 
to  send  him  to  a  distance.  For  this  purpose  she  pitched  upon  a 
school,  called  the  Willington  Academy,  then  conducted  with  great 
reputation  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Moses  Waddell.  It  was  situated  in  the 
fine  upland  District  of  Abbeville,  near  the  Savannah  river,  and  there- 
fore not  far  from  the  borders  of  Georgia ;  from  which  State,  as  well 
as  upper  Carolina,  it  drew  many  of  its  pupils :  so  that  Dr.  W.  had 


XVI.  BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE. 

the  good  fortune  to  number  among  his  disciples,  at  one  time  or 
another,  many  men  not  a  little  distinguished  in  after  life.* 

The  school,  we  have  said,  and  its  master  were  then  of  great  repute; 
and  the  fact  that  from  it  emerged  many  who  figured  in  the  public 
life  of  their  region,  seems  to  justify  Dr.  W.'s  reputation.  Yet, 
though  he  afterwards  passed  into  Georgia,  became  the  President  of 
its  college  at  Athens,  and  reigned,  down  to  less  than  20  years  since, 
the  Aristarch,  the  Parr,  the  Busby  of  a  whole  literary  realm  there- 
abouts, we  are  little  able  to  say  what  were  his  merits  as  a  scholar, 
or  even  as  a  teacher.  His  range  of  any  thing  like  erudition  was  pro- 
bably not  large ;  but  within  it  he  was  exact,  methodical  and  rigid— a 
man  to  teach  well,  so  far  as  he  did  it,  by  governing  well ;  which  is 
by-the-bye,  the  teacher's  main  qualification  for  the  advancement  of 
the  mass  of  pupils. 

This,  however,  as  will  have  been  easily  divined,  was  not  the  sort 
of  system  of  which  Hugh  Legare  had  need  or  by  which  he  could 
well  be  managed.  A  man  of  forms  in  the  elevated  pursuits  which 
he  had  now  learned  ardently  to  love,  a  teacher  who, 

With  the  same  cement  ever  sure  to  bind, 
Would  bring  to  one  dead  level  every  mind, 

suited  not  that  fervor  of  knowledge  which  had  now  fired  him  and 
would  have  hurried  him  on  at  a  pace  quite  beyond  the  methods  of 
his  new  preceptor.  In  the  spirit  towards  himself,  he  doubtless  met 
for  the  first  time,  a  discipline  not  the  most  genial.  In  a  word,  he 
and  his  teacher  appear,  from  the  first,  to  have  understood  each  other 
sufficiently  ill.  The  school  itself  and  the  manners  of  his  co  mates 
of  the  country  seem  soon  to  have  grown  most  heartily  distasteful  to 
him ;  and  he  began,  within  but  a  few  weeks,  to  supplicate  his  mother, 
in  frequent  and  very  earnest  letters,  to  remove  him  elsewhere.  She, 
however,  bent  on  accomplishing  what  she  had  proposed  to  herself, 
had  the  constancy  to  resist  all  his  appeals.  Repelled  thus,  he  seems 
to  have  grown  exceedingly  unhappy,  especially  when  presently  the 
the  teacher,  who  liked  him  not,  made  him,  in  his  suspicions  an 
imaginary  party,  along  with  some  of  his  lowland  associates,  to  a 
meditated  plot  or  rebellion.  At  this  harshly  expressed  persuasion,  he 
became  as  indignant  as  he  had  before  been  disgusted,  and  renewed 
in  the  most  vehement  terms  to  his  mother  his  entreaties  to  be  recalled. 
The  letters  conveying  these  fresh  supplications  are  written  in  the 

*  Among  them,  besides  Legar£,  may  be  mentioned  George  McDuffie,  Judge 
William  Harper,  and  James  L.  Petigru — all  Carolinians. 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE*  XVlh 

most  passionate  strain  of  indignation  and  suffering :  but  in  the  midst 
of  the  extremest  expression  of  emotions  evidently  the  most  violent,  it 
is  still  delightful  to  see  that  nothing  escapes  him,  even  when  he 
thinks  his  mother  cruel  in  her  persistance,  that  does  not  breathe  the 
completest  filial  respect  and  devotion.  Every  where,  the  mother  is 
apparent,  in  the  correspondence,  as  one  not  less  firm  than  tender — the 
son  as  proud,  vehement,  even  stormy,  when  his  inborn,  but  yet,  un- 
formed feelings  are  once  excited  into  full  action  ;  but  full,  as  to  his 
parent,  of  a  sentiment  that  says  all  the  while,  to  the  very  tempest  and 
surge  of  his  passion,  "Thus  far  shalt  thou  go,  and  no  farther!" 

It  is  in  these  letters,  indeed,  that  first  visibly  opens  to  us  the  beauti- 
ful (and  ah !  the  rare)  spectacle  of  the  unbroken,  unceasing,  entire 
affection  of  these  two.  In  the  one,  it  is  the  fond  maternal  instinct, 
heightened  by  the  widow's,  the  sole  protectress,  and  guardian's  stronger 
necessity  to  direct  with  a  father's  command,  as  well  as  cherish  with 
a  woman's  utmost  tenderness,  her  boy,  her  darling,  him  the  young 
image  of  her  husband,  the  hope  of  her  house,  its  future  honour :  in 
the  other,  it  is  that  child  repaying,  by  a  feeling  as  deep  and  almost 
as  unmixed,  the  ceaseless  solicitude,  the  admirable  nurture,  of  which 
he  was  the  conscious  object.  In  life,  we  can  recal  no  equal  instance 
of  this  sort  of  love — but  one  that  approaches  it.  Perhaps  those  of 
Pope,  Gray  the  poet,  and  Schiller,  are  the  known  examples  likest  it — 
by  all  these,  except  in  six  touching  lines  of  the  verse  of  one  of  them,* 
kept  sacred  (as  it  was  by  Legare)  from  the  vulgar  eye,  and  betrayed 
only  in  the  confidence  of  the  most  intimate  interchanges  of  thought, 
or  in  other  records  of  what  was  passing  in  the  breast.  Of  course,  in 
the  Legares,  main  pleasure  as  it  was  in  the  existence  of  both,  it  often 
discloses  itself  in  their  mutual  letters :  and  his,  which  alone  we  see, 

*  In  these  days,  when  Wordsworth's  read  and  Shelley  understood,  when 
Bowles's  sonnets  "sell"  ("stick  to  your  sonnets,  man!  At  least  they  sell ;" — By- 
ron)— when  Pollok  has  passed  for  sublime,  and  all  the  last  sweepings-out  of 
Parnassus  seem  to  have  been  flung  down  upon  us,  a  mere  reference  to  Pope  is 
not  enough;  and  we  must,  in  order  to  be  sure  to  be  understood,  cite  eight  lines,  six 
of  which  are  those  to  which  we  allude,  and  perfectly  appropriate  here,  as  descri- 
bing the  pious  care  with  which  Legare"  watched  over  the  failing  years  of  his 
mother : 

"Ah  friend  !  may  each  domestic  hliss  he  thine ! 

Be  no  intruding  melancholy  mine  ! 

Me,  let  the  tender  omce  long  engage 

To  rock  the  cradle  of  declining  age, 

With  lenient  arts  extend  a  mother's  hreath, 

Make  languor  smile  and  soothe  the  bed  of  death, 

Explore  the  thought,  explain  the  asking  eye, 

And  keep  at  least  one  parent  from  the  sky  !" 
VOL.  I. B 


XVni.  BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE, 

tell  plainly  of  what  must  be  in  hers.  Upon  occasions,  however,  and 
even  in  the  midst  of  public  triumph,  of  ability  the  most  intoxicating, 
his  heart  evidently  tuftrs  from  all  that  heaped  upon  him  the  accom- 
plishment of  the  vision  of  his  laborious  life,  to  what  rose  up  as  a 
reward  above  the  applause  of  crowds  and  the  admiration  of  Senates — 
the  delight  which  each  great  public  success  would  carry  to  the  bosom 
of  his  parent.  Indeed,  these  successes  are  known  to  those  who  un- 
derstood him  best  to  have  dazzled  and  even  to  have  moved  him  but 
Httle.  He  had  a  critic  in  himself  more  difficult  to  please  than  any 
mere  audience  ;  and  testimonies  of  public  delight  therefore  became  but 
the  confirmations  of  what  powerful  and  regular  Art  had  for  him 
already  divined.  At  times,  the  burst  of  admiration,  which  might  have 
lifted  others  to  the  summit  of  gratified  self-esteem,  is  known  only  to 
have  saddened  him  :  whether  that  he  remained  unsatisfied  with  him- 
self  and  disapproved  the  popular  approval ;  or  that,  in  a  nature  full  of 
passion  and  sensibility,  upon  which,  at  such  moments,  pressed  foremost 
of  all  some  thought  of  the  affections,  he  was  wrung — especially  after 
the  death  of  his  mother— with  some  recurring  sorrow.  She,  however, 
was  entirely,  through  a  great  part  of  his  life,  the  main  centre  of  all 
that  moved  him  most  deeply :  she,  and  the  passion  of  merited  renown, 
of  lasting  honour,  won  by  great  abilities  nobly  exerted. 

Of  an  age  yet  to  be  governed  by  prejudices,  and  of  a  city  the  ele- 
gance and  delights  of  which  inspired  and  still  inspire  its  inhabitants 
(of  that  order  whose  habits  produce  them)  with  a  peculiar  pride  and 
fondness  towards  it — a  sort  of  local  patriotism-  the  most  fervid — it  can 
scarcely  have  been  much  else  than  the  morgue,  which  breathed  itself 
there  over  the  manners  of  its  not  a  little  exclusive  circles,  that  made 
our  young  student — full  as  he  already  was  of  his  own  lofty  thoughts, 
intent  on  intellectual  eminence,  and  sympathizing  with  nothing  that 
bore  not  the  outward  marks  of  it  in  a  cultivated  demeanor — quite 
distasteful  to  his  fellow-pupils  of  the  upper  country  and  even  to  his 
master.  Them,  in  his  turn,  he  disliked  still  more  vehemently,  through 
all  his  earlier  stay  at  Willington.  Shy  through  life  of  all  that  pleased 
him  not,  and  not  yet  trained  down  to  that  cynic  insensibility  to  the  minor 
elegances  of  life  which  democracies  enforce,  he  probably  held  him- 
self apart  from  the  body  of  the  school,  and  made  his  almost  exclu- 
sive associates  of  a  few  Charleston  pupils,  themselves  by  no*  means 
popular.  Certain  of  these,  it  seems,  probably  richer  and  therefore 
more  irregular  if  not  more  insubordinate  than  the  rest,  had  drawn  on 
themselves  the  particular  rigour  of  Dr.  Waddell,  and  incurred  at  last, 
within  the  first  few  months  of  Legare's  residence  there,  the  suspicion 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE,  XiX. 

of  breeding  plots,  and  even  a  rebellion.  Utterly  mistaking  in  such 
things  the  possibilities  of  young  Legare's  character,  and  probably  but 
little  sensible  as  yet  of  merits  concealed  by  his  aversion  to  the  school, 
the  master  included  him  in  his  suspicions  and  presently  in  his  threats, 
to  the  supposed  culprits,  of  severe  punishment.  He  seems  to  have 
repelled  the  charge  of  any  such  conspiracy  with  indignation ;  and 
this,  if  Dr.  W.  had  known  the  firm  and  invariable  truth  in  which  the 
boy  had  been  admirably  bred,  and  from  which  he  never  deviated  while 
he  lived,  would  have  been  enough :  but  the  Doctor  refused  to  believe 
him,  and,  apparently,  from  his  own  letters  to  his  mother,  denounced 
him  to  her.  The  injustice  of  the  suspicion  and  the  affront  to  his 
veracity  of  course  stung  very  deeply  his  young  mind,  full  of  rectitude 
and  sensitive  to  honour  in  all  its  best  forms  He  complains  violently, 
in  his  letters  to  his  mother,  of  the  wrong  done  him;  considers  himself 
treated  with  a  rash  and  brutal  injustice ;  and  appeals  to  her  to  say 
whether  he  had  ever  before  been  suspected  of  such  offences,  and  then, 
when  he  purged  himself  of  them,  believed  capable  of  falsehood?  In 
a  word,  he  reiterates  his  entreaties  for  permission  to  go  elsewhere ; 
reminds  her  that  she  had  at  first  promised  him  that  he  should  not  stay, 
if  not  content ;  and  protests  that  he  can  never  be  reconciled  to  the 
place  or  the  people ;  that  they  suit  him  not  at  all. 

We  know  not  precisely,  beyond  the  original  motives  which  had 
determined  this  wise  mother  to  send  him  thither,  what  reasons  or  what 
judgment  upon  his  grievances  led  her  to  persist  in  keeping  him  there. 
Obviously,  her  purposes  were  not  easily  shaken — she  withstood  all  his 
remonstrances,  all  his  supplications,  and  the  stronger  pleadings  of  her 
own  tenderness.  Probably,  sagacious  as  she  was,  she  perfectly  com- 
prehended the  advantage,  for  his  future  career,  of  exposing  him  to  the 
very  repugnances  by  which  he  suffered,  and  of  training  him  out  of 
them.  She  felt,  perhaps,  that  the  softening  kindliness  and  equity  of 
home,  the  daintiness  of  patrician  breeding,  the  niceties  of  town  nurture, 
were  things  not  to  be  suffered  to  grow  into  fixed  ideas,  in  one  who 
was  not  to  have  a  life  of  silk.  Destined  to  make  his  way,  not  in 
saloons,  but  through  all  the  roughness  of  a  democracy,  what  was  so 
fit  as  that  her  boy  should  taste  betimes  of  its  rudeness,  its  insolence 
its  injustice,  learn  to  tolerate  robustious  ignorance,  shake  hands  with 
uncouthness,  and  make  friends  with  prejudice?  Doubtless  she  remem- 
bered the  tale  in  Grecian  fable,  and  that  sorrowful  stream  in  which 
heroes  were  dipped,  to  make  them  invulnerable.  At  any  event,  like 
the  goddess,  she  took  her  son  by  the  heels,  and  held  him  in. 

Careful,  however,  to  preserve  his  affections  and  not  to  crush  in  him 


XX.  BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE. 

that  noble  element,  his  pride,  she  took  the  gentlest  means  to  her  pur- 
poses. Unable  to  visit  him  in  person,  she  seized  the  occasion  of  a 
journey  of  one  of  his  uncles — a  kinsman  in  whom  she  had  great 
confidence — into  that  quarter ;  and  contrived,  through  his  intervention, 
to  satisfy  Hugh  that  he  ought  to  remain  where  he  was,  until  he  should 
be  in  a  condition  to  enter  college — a  term  which  his  own  exertions 
might  abridge  no  little.  At  the  same  time,  it  is  probable  that  the  un- 
cle's representations  were  used  with  Dr.  Waddell,  to  bring  about  a 
better  understanding,  a  juster  mutual  estimate,  between  the  master  and 
his  pupil.  Certain  it  is,  that  a  pacification  ensued,  and  that  this 
ripened,  before  they  parted,  into  such  good  will  that  Dr.  W.  began  to 
utter  predictions  of  Hugh's  future  eminence  ;  while  the  latter  formed 
for  his  teacher,  in  return,  the  respect  to  which  he  was  really  entitled ; 
and,  through  life,  recurred  with  gratitude  to  the  influence  of  his  lessons 
over  the  formation  of  his  attainments.  We  know,  besides,  from  him- 
self, that  the  foundation  of  his  large  and  rich  Hellenistic  studies,  dated 
from  this  school;  and  his  distinguished  fellow-collegian, Mr.  Preston,* 
informs  us  that  he  came  from  it  to  college,  preceded  by  a  boy-repu- 
tation the  most  brilliant,  for  abilities  and  acquirements.  It  is  clear, 
therefore,  that  he  had  entirely  vanquished,  at  Willington,  the  aversions 
of  others  and  his  own,  had  made  his  extraordinary  merits  felt  by  all, 
and  had  probably,  by  his  rapidity  of  study,  almost  exhausted  within 
about  a  year,  all  that  the  place  itself  could  confer:  for,  as  we  have 
intimated,  there  was  more  exactness  than  erudition  there,  and  more 
discipline  than  elegance. | 

It  would  seem,  from  his  letters  to  his  mother  during  the  earlier  term 

*  In  his  Eulogy,  pronounced  at  Charleston,  in  1843. 

t  We  have  ourselves  some  recollection  of  the  venerable  head  of  this  and  of 
several  other  not  a  little  famous  schools.  Indeed,  we  perhaps  owe  some  trans- 
mitted obligations  to  Dr.  Waddell,  in  the  person  of  a  father,  the  earliest  graduate 
of  the  college,  where,  we  believe,  as  tutor  of  Latin  and  Greek,  Dr.  W.  first  taught. 
It  was  that  of  Hampden  Sydney,  in  Virginia. 

A  leading  divine  of  the  straitest  of  all  sects,  he  had  then  (about  1829)  much  of 
its  antique  formality  and  air  of  being  buckled-up  in  rigour  and  precision — looking 
such  as  Cotton  Mather  must  have  looked,  or  as  Dr.  Samuel  Parr  turned  Presby- 
terian. In  his  customary  canonicals  of  dress,  manners  and  countenance,  he 
seemed  terribly  the  austere  polemic  and  the  fierce  pedagogue ;  and,  in  that  day  of 
very  limited  scholarship,  shone  as  a  sort  of  Aristarch  of  the  South.  His  humane 
attainments,  if  good  for  that  era,  were  probably  not  considerable,  or,  at  any  eventf 
rather  grammatical  than  literary.  Beneath  his  severity  of  aspect  and  pedantry 
ot  style,  however,  he  bore  a  heart  full  of  simplicity  and  kindliness,  a  sound  un- 
derstanding, a  firm  temper  and  great  rectitude  of  character. 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE.  XXI. 

of  his  pupilage  at  Willington,  that  he  was  from  the  first  far  enough 
advanced  to  have  joined  the  college  class  which  he  now,  at  the  age 
of  1 4,  entered.  And  thus  his  enforced  stay  and  his  entire  progress  at  Dr- 
Waddell's,  served  to  place  him  in  easy  command  of  all  those  studies, 
at  which  his  fellows  of  the  class  were  forced  to  toil,  that  they  might 
barely  comprehend,  while  he  could  exult  in  learning  to  excel.  This 
ripeness  for  his  studies,  this  amplitude  of  preparation,  on  which  so 
much  depend  all  the  real  fruits  of  a  good  college  course,  his  mother's 
judgment  and  firmness  had  secured  for  him.  It  enabled  him  to  go 
forward  with  an  ease,  that  each  day  placed  him  farther  in  advance  of 
his  classmates,  and  led  him  on  to  each  new  subject  with  higher  ad- 
vantages. 

Of  the  proficiency  in  study  and  the  development  of  parts  with  which 
he  came  to  matriculate  at  Columbia  (the  college  of  his  State)  in  its 
lowest  class,  we  cannot  give  any  account  so  authentic  as  that  of  a 
biographer,  the  companion  of  part  of  his  college  life,  the  rival  in 
brilliancy  then  and  after  of  his  reputation,  and  the  associate  of  some 
of  his  travels  and  labours  abroad.*  "He  entered  college  at  the  very 
early  age  of  1 4.  His  reputation  having  preceded  him,  he  was,  on  his 
arrival,  an  object  of  curiosity  and  interest  to  the  students ;  while,  on 
his  part,  with  boyish  ingenuousness,  he  was  not  indisposed  to  exhibit 
his  acquirements,  nor  backward  in  giving  it  to  be  understood,  that  he 
intended  to  run  for  the  honours  of  his  class.  His  previous  attainments, 
the  astonishing  facility  with  which  he  added  to  them  and  the  eager 
industry  with  which  he  threw  himself  upon  his  studies,  gave  him  at 
once  a  lead  which  he  maintained  throughout  his  course,  until  he  was 
graduated  not  only  with  the* honours  of  college,  but  with  a  reputation 
in  the  State.  He  mainly  devoted  himself  to  the  departments  of  Clas. 
sical  Literature  and  Philosophy ;  and  he  zealously  engaged  in  the 
discussions  of  the  debating  societies,  in  order  to  practice  himself  in 
the  art  of  speaking.  These  studies  were  a  passion  with  him.  His 
attention  to  the  Exact  Sciences,  however,  seemed  to  be  stimulated, 
rather  by  an  ambition  and  a  sense  of  duty,  than  a  particular  inclina- 
tion. His  recitations  in  Mathematics,  Chemistry  and  Natural  Phi- 
losophy were  always  good — equal  to  the  best  in  his  class :  but  his 
heart  was  in  the  Classics."! 

At  the  time   of  young  Legare's  matriculation  there    (1814),  the 


♦  Ex-Senator  William  C.  Preston,  now  President  of  the  South-Carolina  Col- 
lege: 
t  Preston,  Eulogy. 


XX11.  BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE. 

Institution  yet  enjoyed  a  public  favour,  partly  the  just  meed  of  the 
talents  and  learning  with  which  it  was  originally  constituted,  and 
partly  the  gift  of  that  sort  of  yet  undiminished  delight  which  the  last 
popular  novelty  begets.  In  its  very  able  and  amiable  first  president, 
Dr.  Maxcy,  it  possessed  a  chief  of  the  studies  and  government,  ex- 
ceedingly fit  to  inspire  a  fine  spirit  as  to  both.  Highly  cultivated  in 
the  liberal  arts,  of  excellent  attainments  in  general  Belles  Lettres  and 
in  Philosophy,  possessed  of  a  fine  native  eloquence  improved  by  taste 
method,  he  joined  to  such  qualities  the  gentleness  and  simplicity  of 
the  scholar  born  and  that  fitness  of  manners  breathing  always  the  gen- 
tleman and  the  man  of  every  humane  propensity,  which  more  than 
almost  any  other  power  commands  the  young,  and  which  must  give 
success  to  his  present  much  more  brilliant  successor,  of  far  more  capa- 
cious mind  and  of  personal  qualities  still  more  imposing  as  well  as  at- 
tractive. 

Second  to  Dr  Maxcy  in  length  of  service — of  very  inferior  abilities — 
but  really  an  excellent  classical  scholar  and  faithful,  exact  teacher, 
stood  the  professor  of  Philology,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Thomas  Park.  Like 
the  president,  a  New-Englander,#  but  the  most  guileless  and  amiable 
of  human  beings,  his  indulgence  of  temper  and  simplicity  of  heart 
were  such  that,  at  recitations,  a  pupil  had  only  to  stumble,  and  Dr. 
P.  instantly,  from  mere  kindness,  helped  him  up,  or,  by  a  little  boy's 
adroitness,  might  easily  be  made  to  go  through  the  whole  lesson  for 
him — the  unsuspecting  and  singularly  modest  old  man  all  the  while 
unconscious  of  the  manner  in  which  he  was  played  upon,  of  the 
smiles  of  his  class,  and  of  the  fact  that  he  seemed  rather  to  be  reciting 
to  them  than  they  to  him.  His  attainments,  as  far  as  those  of  the 
most  humble-minded  and  bashful  man  in  the  world  could  be  known, 
seemed  almost  entirely  confined  to  two  subjects,  the  most  sacred  in 
his  eyes — the  Bible,  with  some  theology,  and  the  classics  with  their 
illustrative  authors  in  antiquities,  history  and  geography.  His  delight 
and  skill  in  these  latter,  however,  gave  him  the  respect,  as  did  his 
innocence  of  soul  the  affection,  of  pupils  over  whom  he  possessed  no 
other  source  of  authority. 

We  mention  these,  because  they  were  the  teachers  who  presided 
over  Legare's  favorite  pursuits,  and  because  the  books  that  one  has 

•  Dr  Maxcy— elder  brother  of  the  late  envoy  to  Belgium,  Virgil  Maxcy,  who 
was  slain,  with  two  Secretaries  of  Departments,  by  a  certain  gun  called  "the 
Peace-maker"— was  of  Rhode-Island,  and  brought  from  one  of  its  colleges  to 
direct  that  of  South-Carolina.  Dr.  Park  was,  we  believe,  a  Connecticut  man,  and 
of  Yale. 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE.  XX111. 

read  and  the  masters  under  whom  he  has  studied  form  the  history  and 
explain  the  fortunes  of  his  mind. 

In  aid  of  teachers  so  fit,  the  one  to  animate,  the  other  to  assist  his 
own  indomitable  propensities,  the  Institution  offered  to  Hugh  another 
instrument  of  the  finest  knowledge— a  library  if  not  voluminous  in 
its  contents,  yet  choice  in  its  composition,  and  particularly  rich  in  its 
classical  collection,  in  literature  at  large,  and  in  history,  ancient  and 
modern.*  To  one  like  him,  of  a  boundless  ardour  for  the  noblest 
studies,  of  parts  and  an  application  already  taking  the  largest,  and 
most  muscular  proportions,  and  rapidly  growing  into  a  strenuousness 
fit  to  wrestle  with  whole  libraries,  such  a  collection  was,  of  itself, 
almost  enough  for  this  stage  of  his  life.  With  it  alone  he  would  have 
taught  himself,  almost  as  fast,  every  thing  that  lectures  can  impart, 
'Tis  but  little.  "Paul  may  plant,  and  Cephas  may  water ;  but  it  is 
only  God  that  can  give  the  increase."  From  the  mere  living,  how 
small  the  part  which  such  a  man  as  Legare  would  take !  The  best 
of  them  could  only  be  to  him  an  index  and  point  him  to  higher,  to 
real  sources.  Do  colleges  educate  such  men?  They  educate  them- 
selves. Ordinary  people  are  educated;  but  genius  must  be  its  own 
instructor.  He  who  learns  no  great  deal  more  than  professors  can 
teach  him  is,  after  all,  but  a  better  sort  of  blockhead  and  a  sufficient 
ignoramus.  The  degree,  indeed,  in  which  all  real  education  is  self-edu- 
cation— the  glow,  the  impulse,  the  passion  and  the  power  to  know, 
acting  of  itself — seems  but  little  felt  in  this  age  of  such  imagined 
improvements  in  the  art  of  instruction.  Pity  that  men  should  grow 
worse  scholars  just  in  proportion  to  the  improvement  of  erudition's 
helps!  This  is  the  era  and  these  the  helps  of  mediocrity  and  facility, 
that  do  nothing  ill  and  nothing  well.  When  all  things  come  to  be 
easy,  great  things  cease  to  be  performed.  It  might  have  been  well 
or  at  least  considerably  more  convenient  for  Mungo  Park,  could  he 
have  travelled  through  Africa  in  stage-coaches ;  but  the  fact  would 
not  then  have  rendered  Mungo  a  great  man.  Children  may  be  made 
to  walk  the  sooner  by  the  help  of  go-carts  and  leading-strings  ;  which, 
however,  enfeeble,  just  as  much   as  they  expedite  the  limbs.     These 

*  It  then  embraced,  probably,  about  9,000  volumes — a  moderate  collection  for  an 
English  country-gentleman,  but,  among  us,  the  library  of  a  State.  By  this  time, 
it  may  contain  15,000  volumes.  We  knew  it  under  the  control  of  an  Antiquarius, 
(as  the  Latins  called  a  librarian)  who  published  a  catalogue  in  which  vastly  vo- 
luminous authors,  named  "CEuvres5'  and  "Opera,"  figured  greatly.  GEuvres 
wrote  Voltaire,  Montesquieu,  and  most  of  the  French  books;  Opera,  Cicero, 
Plato,  and  the  larger  Latin  and  Greek  works  generally. 


xxiv.  Biographical  notice* 

notions  are  not.  inappropriate  to  our  subject:  we  should  not  set  them 
down,  however,  if  they  were  not  those  of  him  of  whom  we  write. 

It  was  here,  then,  for  the  first  time,  that  our  young  student — groping 
no  longer,  with  uncertain  hand,  in  the  mere  schoolroom,  after  a  scanty 
knowledge — came  where,  with  every  liberal  aid  and  every  light,  it 
courted  his  grasp  on  all  sides.  It  was  the  narrow  task,  the  penurious 
illustration,  the  books  already  exhausted,  no  longer:  a  new  world  of 
thought  was  before  him;  and  he  hailed  it  with  the  joy  of  that  warlike 
adventurer  who,  climbing  the  isthmus,  first  saw  the  South  Seas  be- 
yond, and  deemed  all  that  deep  his  own. 

Our  allusion  is  no  exaggerated  one ;  for  no  breast  of  conqueror  or 
world-finder  ever  knew  a  fervour  of  purpose  or  a  rapture  of  hope 
stronger  than  the  enthusiasm  of  letters  and  of  all  the  noble  things  of 
which  they  may  be  made  the  instruments,  that  was  now  fast  kindling 
up  in  poor  Legar6.  Heretofore,  he  had  seemed  merely  the  boy  of  fine 
capacity  and  inclinations :  but  now  the  instinct  of  what  he  was  to  be 
awoke  in  him  ;  the  dream  of  his  young  life  took  shape ;  the  forms  of 
every  thing  good  and  fair,  that  had  flashed  upon  him  intimations  from 
his  studies  or  his  thoughts,  grew  palpable  and  waived  him  on  to  tread 
a  career  as  yet  unattempted  in  this  country — of  a  preparation,  the 
completestj  brought  to  practical  life  in  its  most  difficult  pursuits ;  of 
mastering,  by  consummate  labour,  learning  enough  for  a  lifetime  of 
erudition,  accomplishments  enough  for  a  lifetime  of  leisure,  and  then 
turning  all  these  to  the  aid  of  public  performance.  Such  soon  grew  to 
be  his  conception ;  nor  did  he  ever  after  relax  in  its  execution. 

It  will  naturally  be  supposed  that  nothing  short  of  an  ambition  the 
most  violent  could  have  urged  him  to  such  a  plan :  yet  we  doubt  if 
that  was  really  the  passion  that  ever  led  him  on.  We  have  said  that, 
in  after-life,  his  public  successes  seemed  often  to  sadden  him ;  nor  did 
they  ever  appear  eagerly  sought.  For  even  the  distinctions  at  which 
he  had  legitimately  arrived,  he  was  never  in  haste :  he  was  rather 
borne  to  them  by  his  reputation  than  by  any  effort  of  his  own  compe- 
tition. No  man  ever  less  possessed  or  less  desired  the  art  (Ambition's 
main  tool)  of  availing  himself  of  other  men,  of  rising  by  contrivance' 
To  deserve,  and  to  be,  if  at  all,  by  deserving,  was  evidently  his  only 
thought.  And  he  who  aspires  in  but  this  wise,  let  him  reach  as  high 
as  he  may,  if  he  can  be  said  to  be  ambitious,  is  rather  ambitious  of 
merit  than  its  reward,  which  chance  and  men  may  bestow  or  refuse. 
Another  and  a  more  antique  passion,  caught  from  more  famous  days 
and  their  genius,  certainly  animated  him,  however — that  which  taught 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE,  XXV, 

the  Greek  to  prefer  the  laurel  crown  adjudged  by  his  assembled  nation, 
to  power  supreme  or  unbounded  wealth- 
Glory,  the  reward 

That  sole  excites  to  high  attempts— the  flame 

Of  most  erected  sp'rits,  most  tempered  pure 

Ethereal,  who  all  pleasures  else  despise, 

All  treasures  and  all  gain  esteem  as  loss, 

And  dignities  and  powers. 

For  this  alone — to  have  left  some  lasting  monument  to  human 
vecollection,  an  action  that  would  preserve  his  name  grateful  to  other 
times,  a  book  that  might  delight  posterity — he  asked  no  better  than 

<lTo  scorn  delights  and  live  laborious  days." 

This,  indeed,  as  all  knew  who  knew  him  well,  was  the  spirit  of 
the  man :  and  with  it  there  mixed  two  sentiments  not  a  little  sacred, 
one  of  them  so  secret  as  to  disclose  itself  only  to  those  nearest  him— 
a  profound  and  religious  feeling  (perhaps  the  offspring  of  his  constitu. 
tional  melancholy)  of  the  nothingness  of  every  thing  but  virtue  and 
affection.  A  gloom  often  settled  over  him  that  frightened  all  vanity 
from  its  shadow,  lulled  mere  ambition  in  rebuke,  and  stilled  all  aspi- 
rations but  the  most  legitimate.  The  other  sentiment,  to  which  we 
allude,  was  that  of  a  filial  love  the  most  pious  and  fond,  which,  while 
his  mother  lived,  referred  to  her  a  great  part  of  the  pleasure  of  success  • 
and,  after  her  death,  made  each  triumph  a  mourning  for  her  whom  it 
should  have  gladdened. 

As  to  mere  popular  fame  and  the  hour's  notoriety;  the  perishable 
opinion  that  can  hardly  remember  its  own  immortalities  of  last  year; 
the  oblivious  glory  which  an  obscure  rout  can  confer ;  the  idle  admi- 
ration of  an  insensate  crowd,  the  miscellaneous  rabble  of  men,  that 
extol  they  know  not  what  and  exalt  they  know  not  whom,  just  as  one 
may  lead  another,  or  as  the  instant's  cry  may  raise  a  particular 
name— the  love  of  this  sort  of  thing,  however  much  it  suffices  for 
power  or  matches  the  ambition  of  democracies,  was  no  feeling  of 
Legare's.  Except  so  far  as  good  men  are  pleased  with  the  affection 
of  many  and.  so  far  as  even  the  wise  desire  public  favour  that  they 
may  through  it  serve  their  kind,  he  was  absolutely  indifferent  to  every 
thing  like  a  vulgar  reputation,  and  cared  not  to  live  upon  the  tongues 
and  be  the  talk  of  those,  of  whom  to  be  dispraised  is  often  the  better 
commendation.  He  never  earned  and  he  never  sought  much  of  this 
fool-renown.  No  man  possessing  so  much  of  the  powers  that  sway 
the  multitude  ever  exerted  them  less  to  draw  it  after  him.    Nor,  indeed, 

VOL,  I, C 


XXVI.  BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE, 

was  he — though  borne  by  his  opinions  and  habits  towards  the  reve' 
rence  for  authority,  orders,  and  transmitted,  historic  greatness — much 
more  the  captive  or  the  slave  of  the  more  splendid  extremity  of  life, 
of  aristocratic  eminence:  the  men  about  him,  in  a  word,  the  few  or 
the  many,  the  great  or  the  small,  drew  but  little  the  homage  of  a 
mind  too  large,  too  just,  and  measuring  things  around  him  too  con- 
stantly by  the  ideas  of  the  past  and  its  broad  greatness^  to  be  dazzled 
by  rank  or  success,  any  more  than  numbers.  To  shine  in  brilliant  cir- 
cles and  to  be  the  observed  of  their  observers  was  clearly  not  his  wish. 
In  life,  his  associations  were,  from  taste,  few^  and  led  him  always,  of 
preference,  to  a  small  and  intimate  body  of  friends,  in  whom  his 
sympathies  and  affections  found  fellowship,  rather  than  any  vanity 
or  interest  its  advantage.  None  of  these  characteristics — all  of 
which  are  unquestionable — are  those  of  ambition.  We  take  his 
mind,  in  short,  to  have  been  of  that  rare  cast  which,  when  young,  is 
kindled  up  by  no  definite  aim  or  hope,  but  simply  by  its  own  love  of 
what  is  fair  and  great.  Such  spirits  are,  in  their  immaturity,  too 
apprehensive  of  what  is  admirable,  of  too  profound  a  sensibility  to 
the  beautiful,  for  that  self-enamourment  which  makes  men  ambitious 
betimes.  Such  glow  at  the  genius  of  others  and  pant  after  its  pro- 
ductions, when  inferior  men  are  thinking  of  their  own.  It  is  not 
direct  aspiration,  then,  that  leads  them  on,  but  the  need,  the  besoin  to 
nourish  themselves  with  the  food  of  greatness,  its  illustrious  actions, 
its  immortal  thoughts,  the  knowledge  which  is  its  instrument,  the 
art  that  must  be  its  vehicle.  A  temper  and  a  soul  like  this  will,  of 
eourse,  with  the  growing  consciousness  of  learning  mastered  and  skill 
abtained,  acquire  an  artificial  ambition ;  but  sedate,  calm,  high,  self- 
judging,  and  even  intent  on  the  great  past  and  future,  not  that  petty 
link  between  them,  the  present.  Their  ambition  then,  when  formed, 
is  not  that  of  momentary  power  or  celebrity,  but  of  something  that 
shall  equal  them  with  all  former  times  and  carry  them  far  into  future 
ones.  To  write,  if  possible,  his  name  upon  his  age  and  for  his 
country  was  the  longing  of  Legare  ;  and  this  is  not  ambition,  but 
love  of  glory,  of  just  and  lasting  praise.  Certainly  there  was  that 
about  him,  in  personal  intercourse,  which  might  seem,  to  those  who 
conceived  him  not,  vanity.  To  have  totally  escaped  its  slighter  influ- 
ences over  the  manner  was  well-nigh  impossible  to  one  who  had  so 
much  commanded  admiration  every  where,  from  his  very  childhood. 
But  they  who  knew  him  better  knew  that  these  apparent  gleams  of 
self-esteem  were  really  little  else  than  a  part  of  his  early  tincture  of 
antique  feelings — of  his  Greek   and  Roman  notion  of  the  fitness  and 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE.  XXV11. 

fairness  of  encomium.  To  his  friends,  he  sometimes  talked  of  himself 
or  of  them,  as  if  in  the  third  person,  as  Cicero  or  Pliny  or  Horace  do, 
with  a  classic  ingenuousness.  He  had  a  pleasure  in  praising  or  being 
praised  with  discrimination  and  by  those  he  loved.  Indeed,  apart 
from  our  modern  coldness  to  such  things,  what  can  be  fitter  between 
friends  than  this  communion  of  judgments,  this  mutual  criticism,  to 
fire  each  other's  minds  to  the  observing  well?  Yet,  with  all  this,  we 
have  never  known  a  successful  writer  less  addicted  to  referring  to  his 
own  performances,  an  orator  less  occupied  with  his  own  last  speech, 
a  scholar  less  addicted  to  the  needless  display  of  learning.  Let  us, 
however,  resume  the  march  of  our  narrative. 

His  college  term  of  four  years  was  of  course  one  of  prodigious 
toil  and  proficiency :  for  now  the  original  vigor  of  his  temperament 
was  fast  re-establishing  itself  from  the  severe  shock  in  his  childhood, 
and  seemed  only  to  be  excited  by  the  very  labors  which  would  have 
destroyed  almost  any  body  else.  This  extraordinary  power  of  appli- 
cation, too,  stood  by  him  to  the  last,  unexhausted  by  a  life  of  study 
as  incessant  as  is  the  utmost  ardor  or  him  who,  at  college,  labors  for 
manhood's  first  honor  and  hope,  a  degree.  Except  that  remarkable 
scholar  and  man  of  science,  Dr.  Thomas  Cooper,  late  president  of 
the  South-Carolina  College,  who,  up  to  the  age  of  near  80,  kept  up 
with  all  the  progress  of  the  chief  sciences,  with  that  of  the  main 
parts  of  literature,  devoured  the  very  novels  of  an  age  of  trash,  and 
read  in  short  every  thing,  even  to  the  congressional  speeches  and 
quantities  of  reviews  and  newspapers,  we  have  never  known  any  one 
of  such  vast  intellectual  activity.  We  need  scarcely  add  that  he 
filled  himself  with  Latin  and  Greek,  mastered  a  large  body  of  his- 
tory, and  acquired,  besides  a  sound  knowledge  of  the  physical 
sciences,  a  great  amount  of  the  best  literature,  poetry  and  eloquence, 
together  with  an  acquaintance  with  the  principles  and  history  of  those 
cognate  arts  of  the  imagination,  painting,  sculpture,  and  music,  for 
which  his  natural  taste  was  strong.  Much  he  mastered  as  far  as  for 
the  mere  wholeness  of  a  liberal  education  is  necessary ;  of  much  he 
formed  a  solid  basis  for  a  future  superstructure  of  knowledge ;  and 
in  not  a  few  subjects  he  had  begun  investigations,  by  and  bye  to 
be  resumed,  somewhat 

"As  those  who  unripe  veins  in  mines  explore 
On  the  rich  bed  again  the  warm  turf  lay, 
'Till  time  digests  the  yet  imperfect  ore, 
And  know  it  will  be  gold  another  day."* 

*  Dry  den,  Annus  Mirabilis. 


XXV111.  BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE. 

To  this  vehement  prosecution  of  the  regular  academic  studies  and  of 
what  could  best  elucidate,  in  voluntary  research,  his  own  favorite 
pursuits,  he  joined  an  assiduous  cultivation  of  whatever  could  lead 
him  to  oratory  as  an  art  the  most  regular  and  finished.  We  need 
scarcely  say  that  he  resorted,  as  was  always  his  first  thought  in 
whatever  he  undertook,  at  once  to  the  great  sources ;  that  he  put 
aside  those  false  helps,  rhetorical  systems,  the  corruptors,  not  teachers, 
of  eloquence,  born  of  its  decline  and  expediting  it,  as  incapable  of 
making  the  great  speaker  as  the  great  poet  or  prosaist.  He  read  with 
the  minutest  care  the  great  ancient  masters  of  harangue,  the  true 
models  of  persuasion ;  and  with  them  he  joined  all  that  the  historians 
and  poets  contain  of  eloquence  in  other  forms.  The  great  poets,  per- 
haps, claimed  and  received,  even  more  than  the  orators,  his  study,  as 
affording,  for  all  the  purposes  of  oratory,  resorts  still  more  perfect — 
forms  of  discourse  more  animated,  imaginative,  energetic  and  affect- 
ing ;  much  greater  delicacy  and  grace  as  well  as  precision  and  force 
of  diction ;  an  infinitely  greater  command  of  language  and  its  me- 
chanism, of  sound  and  its  resources,  than  the  most  admirable  prose 
compositions  can  furnish.  He  saw,  in  short,  that  for  all  the  purposes 
of  composition,  in  no  matter  what  language,  the  poets  must  be  mas- 
tered ;  that  from  their  art  must  descend  all  the  others  that  deal  with 
the  imagination  and  the  senses.  He  perceived  that  oratory  is  little 
but  poetry  subdued  to  the  business  of  civic  life.  He  studied  it,  there- 
fore, as  a  great  and  serious  part  of  knowledge ;  first  in  the  great  epic 
and  tragic  writers  of  antiquity,  and  afterwards  in  those  of  his  own 
tongue  ;  from  which  he  passed  to  that  of  the  modern  Latin  dialects — 
French,  Italian,  Spanish,  Portuguese  and  something  of  Provencal ; 
with  German,  Low  Dutch,  and  Romaic,  later  in  life.  In  Ancient 
Letters,  he  possessed  himself  very  perfectly,  for  all  literary  and  his- 
torical or  political  purposes,  of  the  Greek  writers  of  all  the  latter  age; 
of  Homer  learnedly,  as  infinitely  the  greatest  of  merely  human  wits 
and  the  main  key  to  profane  Antiquity  ;  of  the  three  great  tragic 
poets,  Pindar,  and  the  lyric  writers,  accurately ;  of  Aristophanes,  as 
every  way  important,  but  especially  in  the  elucidation  of  the  worst 
period  of  the  Athenian  democracy.  To  these  he  joined  the  finer 
historians  and  above  all  Thucydides,  whom  he  adored  as  far  the  pro- 
foundest  and  noblest  of  such  authors,  an  able  soldier,  an  admirable 
politician,  an  accomplished  orator,  and  a  writer  unmatched  in  all  the 
severe  beauties  of  composition.  Of  the  orators,  we  need  scarcely 
speak ;  his  singularly  fine  and  original  defence   of  the  greatest  of 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE.  XXIX. 

them*  sufficiently  manifests  his  intimate  knowledge  of  them  all. 
Among  the  philosophers,  he  studied  Plato  and  Aristotle  most  care- 
fully ;  and,  in  a  word,  his  Hellenistic  scholarship,  not  spent  upon 
philological  niceties  though  far  from  neglecting  them,  was,  for  the 
mastery  of  what  is  most  worth  possessing  in  that  language,  very 
high  indeed,  such  as  is  not  easily  found  in  Europe,  and  not  at  all 
approached  by  any  body  in  this  country.  With  the  Latins,  though 
less  his  delight,  he  was  familiar  in  proportion  Their  poets,  orators 
and  annalists  he  knew  thoroughly,!  and  of  every  thing  that  could 
illustrate  the  great  system  of  jurisprudence  with  which  Rome  com- 
pensated her  conquests,  he  by  and  bye  possessed  himself  very  com- 
pletely.;): 

French,  as  the  modern  tongue  of  most  immediate  necessity,  he 
early  learnt  to  speak  and  to  write  almost  as  purely  as  his  own ;  how- 
ever, very  highly  valuing,  its  more  elegant  literature,  — except  Moliere, 
Boileau,  La  Fontaine,  Montaigne,  Rabelais  and  the  older  writers. 
He  made  himself  well-versed  in  its  historic  authors,  particularly  its  rich 
old  Chroniclers ;  had  dipped  into  its  now-forgotten  Romance,  the 
chivalric  and  classic ;  and  was  duly  read,  as  a  part  of  his  profession, 
in  whatever  it  contains  of  valuable  in  jurisprudence  and  legislation  at 
large. 

As  a  tongue  of  richer  and  purer  literature  than  any  other  modern 
one,  Italian  delighted  him  greatly.  From  Dante  and  Boccaccio,  and 
Petrarch,  he  had  read  downwards  through  the  long  and  bright  line 
of  poets  and  historians  to  Alfieri.  The  illustrious,  the  profound,  the 
virtuous  and  patriotic,  but  ill-fated  Machiavelli,  who  has  painted  so 
admirably  the  wise  tyrant  and  his  arts  that  the  bitterest  of  satires 
has,  ever  since,  out  of  Italy,  passed  for  an  encomium  and  a  guide- 
book of  the  merciless  and  faithless  despot,  was  one  of  his  main  favo- 
rites among  books.  His  fondness  for  the  fine  arts  found  also  its  main 
gratification  in  Italian.  Its  music  was  the  favorite  solace  of  his  ear, 
long  accustomed  to  it  in  the  tones  and  touch  of  a  sister,  much  skilled 
in  it  and  landscape  painting — talents  which  his  own  taste,  forbidden 
directly  to  cultivate,  enjoyed  greatly  in  her.    j 

*  See  his  elaborate  tractate  "On  Demosthenes,  the  orator,  the  statesman  and 
the  man,"  originally  produced  in  the  "New- York  Review." 

t  Witness  his  survey  of  them,  in  his  criticism  of  Dunlop's  History  of  Roman 
Legislation." 

t  See  his  essay  on  "Roman  Legislation,"  and  other  scattered  proofs  of  his 
learning  in  Civil  Law  and  its  sources. 


XXX.  BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE. 

Of  German — entirely  a  later  attainment,  we  must  not  speak,  in  this 
survey  of  attainments  strongly  founded  at  college.  Nor  need  we 
pause  to  mention  more  of  his  Spanish  than  that  he  had  explored  its 
early  historic  and  romantic  literature ;  knew  most  of  those  whom  the 
Curate  (that  admirable  critic)  in  Don  Gluixotte  hands  not  over  to  the 
secular  arm  of  the  barber  and  the  house-keeper  ;  had  read,  like  Doiia 
Inez  herself, 

"All  Calderon  and  greater  part  of  Lope*," 

and  wrote  and  spoke  the  language  with  ease  and  correctness. 

In  his  English,  he  had  taken  the  same  wide  range  as  in  his  Greek, 
making  himself  thoroughly  acquainted  with  its  archaic  poets,  its 
early  popular  literature,  and  that  wealth  of  antiquated  forms,  to 
which,  or  when  the  age  of  commonplace  comes  and  letters  like  gov- 
ernment decline  through  the  multitude  of  those  interfering,  the  skilful 
will  return  for  fresher  impressions  and  a  diction  that  has  not  yet  lost 
its  power  to  please.  He  studied  carefully  the  older  authors,  that 
wrote  an  unexhausted  English — the  sturdy,  manly  race  that  knew 
not  of  slip-slop — our  old  writers,  that  Pope  knew,  but  Johnson  did 
not — the  forgotten  poets  and  dramatists,  Raleigh,  Cowley,  Clarendon, 
Milton,  Jeremy  Taylor,  and  the  Parliament  men  of  the  times  of  the 
Commonwealth.  Among  all,  however,  his  early  and  his  incessant 
passion  was  Milton,  whose  verse  he  had  read  and  repeated  with  a 
rapture  always  new,  and  whose  prose  he  extolled  as  quite  as  much 
nobler  than  all  other  English  as  his  poetry. 

Such  were  the  merely  philologic  and  literary  studies  on  which  he 
thought  it  necessary  to  build  that  consummate  art  of  eloquence  to 
which  he  aspired,  as  the  first  gift  under  a  popular  government.  Trea- 
tises, we  have  said,  which  set  methods  for  that  for  which  one  has  no 
material  and  (as  generally  used)  teach  an  art  as  compends  alone 
would  teach  history,  he  paid  little  attention  to,  knowing  full  well  that 
he  had  something  better  than  rules  to  put  into  him,  in  order  to  become 
an  orator ;  and  that  when  he  had  filled  himself  with  the  spirit  of  orators 
and  poets,  with  knowledge  and  thought  and  passion,  he  should  have 
arrived  at  not  merely  the  artificial  rule,  but  the  sources  from  which  it 
was  drawn.  When  he  had  amassed  ideas  and  images — something 
to  write  about  and  to  give  a  purpose — something  totally  different  from 
the  senseless  training  of  youths  set  at  ornamenting  a  discourse  before 
they  can  make  its  basis,  sense — tie  practiced,  assiduously,  composition, 
without  a  thorough  discipline  in  which  a  man  can  no  more  become  an 
able  speaker,  than  a  great  painter  without  having  sketched  for  years. 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE*  XXXI* 

We  know  not  the  fact  directly,  but  it  is  certain  that,  with  his  strong 
poetic  temperament  and  taste,  he  must  have  been  led  to  the  practice 
of  versifying  his  thoughts  and  those  of  others.  All  who  are  strongly 
sensible  to  the  charms  of  verse  naturally  attempt  it ;  and  Legare. 
intent  on  every  thing  that  could  perfect  him  in  the  mechanism  of 
thought  and  sound,  cannot  have  failed  to  perceive  that  rhythmical 
Composition,  from  its  far  more  artful  structure,  the  choice  of  expres- 
sion which  it  compels,  and  above  all  the  habit  of  compacter  sense 
which  it  brings  about,  improves  one's  prose,  just  as  dancing  does  one's 
walking.  That  he  ever  permitted  a  verse  of  his  to  be  seen,  beyond 
an  epigram  or  two,  we  are  not  aware :  but  the  sonorous  management 
of  his  sentences  makes  it  clear  that  he  had  addicted  himself  to  metri- 
cal studies. 

All  these  are  the  general  studies  of  style :  but  besides,  at  this  es- 
pecial period  of  life,  the  attainment  of  a  particular  one  is  almost 
invariably  attempted.  In  spite  of  the  axiom,  Le  style  c'est  Vhomme, 
men  are  so  largely  mere  copyists  of  others,  that  they  almost  univer- 
sally select  a  model,  upon  which  they  endeavour  to  fashion,  as  to 
manner,  their  own  intellectual  character.  How  many  unhappy  vota- 
ries of  the  effort  to  be,  not  one's-self,  but  another,  has  Swift  made  % 
How  many  victims,  immolators  of  such  little  wit  as  God  gave  them^ 
have  fallen  before  the  shrines  of  those  false  divinities,  Junius  and  Dr. 
Johnson  !  'Twould  be  deplorable  to  think  of,  but  that,  happily,  it  is 
of  very  little  consequence  how  people  write  who  have  not  enough  in 
them  to  be  themselves.  Their  ideas  rarely  give  one  any  occasion  to 
lament  the  feebleness  of  their  expression.  This  mistake,  Legare, 
guided  by  the  sure  instinct  of  right  study,  evidently  never  committed. 
His  taste  sought  too  wide  a  range,  and  excellences  too  various,  for  him 
ever  to  sink  into  the  shallow  monomaniac  of  a  single  model,  the 
cuckoo  of  one  little  borrowed  strain.  He  saw  that  a  man's  style  must 
be  animated  with  his  own  entire  individuality;  and  that  it  is  what  it 
should  be^  good  or  bad,  just  in  proportion  as  it  is  the  natural  and  ade* 
quate  vehicle  of  the  mode  and  hues  of  his  intellectual  and  moral 
identity.  He  perceived  that  the  imitation  of  a  particular  great  writer 
might  be  useful,  as  a  mere  exercise ;  but  chiefly  either  to  correct  some 
defect  of  one's  own^  or  to  form  to  one's-self  a  greater  facility  and 
plasticity.  He  felt  that,  instead  of  one,  he  must  study  all  models  ; 
learn  to  command,  in  no  small  degree,  all  styles  ;  and  fuse  them,  in  the 
glow  of  his  mind,  into  the  proper  image  of  his  own  thoughts  and 
feelingSi 

Along  with  all  these  things  went,  of.  course,  the  study  of  Declama- 


XXX11.  BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE. 

lion,  and,  as  we  have  seen,  the  practice  of  extemporaneous  speaking) 
in  one  of  those  Debating  Clubs  which  form  a  voluntary  but  an  indis- 
pensable adjunct  of  the  American  Institution  of  Learning  ;  but  which 
it  only  possesses  in  common  with  the  school,  the  village,  the  town, 
and  nearly  every  other  community,  learned  or  unlearned. 

To  him  who  has  not  formed  elsewhere  a  just  oratorical  taste,  there 
can  be  no  worse  school  than  these  associations  for  debate.  A  few  of 
that  sort  which,  like  Samson's  bees,  can  gather  honey  from  a  carcass, 
may  draw  benefit  from  even  these  nurseries  of  disputatiousness  and 
rant,  which  can  teach  little  but  faults  to  those  who  do  not  cultivate 
themselves  abundantly  in  other  methods :  but  in  general  this  early 
practice  of  an  art  so  difficult  and  needing  so  many  well-managed 
auxiliaries  can  do  little  but  to  exhaust  the  fancy,  corrupt  the  taste  and 
fix  the  habit  of  giving  to  the  smallest  number  of  ideas  the  greatest 
number  of  words — a  vice,  accordingly,  which  the  prevalence  of  these 
exercitations  in  wrangling  and  roar  has  rendered  almost  universal 
among  us. 

Yet  the  mere  presence  of  an  audience,  the  face  of  an  adversary,  the 
stir  and  the  glow  of  performance  in  public,  make  of  these  exerciseSj 
for  the  student  of  eloquence,  an  important  alternation  with  his  solitary 
labours.  They  afforded  to  Legare  applications  of  what  he  had  learnt, 
experiments  of  his  own  powers ;  and  he  no  doubt  profited  by  them. 
But  the  habitual  use  of  dramatic  reading  and  of  giving  voice,  in  his 
walks,  to  the  most  spirited  compositions  of  the  poets  and  orators 
stored  in  his  memory,  was  to  him  a  still  better  discipline  of  speech, 
always  at  his  command,  animating  each  lonely  stroll  with  all  the 
pleasures  of  music,  and  leading  him,  by  the  sort  of  vocal  criticism 
which  continual  recitation  produces,  not  merely  to  a  nicer  appreciation 
of  admirable  passages,  but  to  the  whole  art  of  conveying  passion  or 
sense  by  the  voice  and  the  gesture.  A  temperament  full  of  the  pro- 
foundest  sensibility  and  an  ear  true  to  all  tones  and  ready  to  thrill 
with  their  effects,  were  seconded  in  him  by  a  voice  of  extraordinary 
compass,  sweetness  and  power,  which,  cultivated  by  and  by  with 
prodigious  effort,  became  the  most  magnificent  oratorical  instrument 
to  which  we  ever  listened. 

We  have  been  told  by  a  mutual  intimate,  his  associate  at  college,* 

*  The  late  professor  Henry  Junius  Nott>  of  the  South-Carolina  college;  whose 
early  death,  Letters  in  the  South  lament,  in  common  with  the  social  affections, 
which  few  were  so  fit  to  awaken.  A  more  estimable  person,  we  have  never  known, 
and  few  of  literary  attainments  more  various  and  elegant.  The  gentleness, 
kindliness  and  probity  of  his  character,  his  gay  and  easy  humour,  the  amenity 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE,  XXX1U. 

that  originally  this  matchless  organ  of  his  was  weakly,  harsh  and 
mexpressive  ;  and  that  he  absolutely  created  it  by  training.  We  find, 
however,  that — misled,  probably,  by  the  pubescence  of  voice  through 
which  Legare  was  then  passing — his  fellow-student  was  mistaken. 
Great  as  was  the  labour  which  he  bestowed  upon  it,  his  voice  was 
naturally  of  fine  quality:*  so  that  the  extraordinary  cultivation  which 
he  gave  to  it  was  the  suggestion  of  taste,  rather  than  of  necessity. 
Or,  possibly,  his  need  to  vanquish,  by  extreme  art,  the  ungraceful 
action  of  limbs  injured  by  disease,  compelled  him  to  the  chief  part  of 
those  severe  exercises  of  the  Delivery  to  which  he  addicted  himself. 
The  practice  of  an  easy  and  expressive  gesture  was  necessarily  asso- 
ciated with  the  exertion  of  his  voice,  to  animate  it.  Certain  it  is  that, 
for  both  purposes,  he  submitted  himself,  through  several  years,  to 
every  species  of  discipline  that  could  correct  his  action  or  perfect  his 
utterance.  He  declaimed  to  the  winds  and  the  waves  ;  or  pitched  his 
tones  to  the  murmur  of  the  forest;  or  spoke  in  vaults,  or  lying  stretch- 
ed on  the  earth ;  or  let  loose  the  full  force  of  his  voice  in  lonely  places. 
At  home,  in  the  country,  where  he  felt  himself  more  free,  the  servants 
would  often  call  the  attention  of  his  mother  and  sisters  to  his  resounding 
recitations,  heard  in  the  distance,  probably  in  those  matchless  exerci- 
tations  of  sonorous  and  vehement  elocution,  the  speeches  of  the  Infernal 
council-chamber,  in  the  second  book  of  Paradise  Lost.f  In  short,  by 
the  unwearied  practice  of  much  more  than  Demosthenian  methods, 
he  overcame  every  defect,  he  carried  every  natural  advantage  to  the 
highest  excellence.     The  powers  of  his  voice — the  mastery,  at  every 

of  mind  that  breathed  itself  over  his  conversation  and  his  writings  alike,  endeared 
him  singularly  to  his  cultivated  associates.  He  was  a  frequent  contributor  to  the 
Southern  Review — chiefly  on  subjects  of  Belles  Lettres.  As  very  happy  speci- 
mens of  agreeable  learning,  we  may  refer  to  his  literary  biographies  of  Wytten- 
bach  and  Parr,  in  that  work.  He  was  exceedingly  loved  by  Legare" — only  less 
than  their  common  friend  of  still  rarer  merit,  the  admirable  Petigru.  Poor 
Nott  perished  with  his  wife  (a  Brussels  lady,  of  much  talent,  whom  he  had  mar- 
ried abroad)  on  his  way  home  from  a  summer  trip  to  the  North,  in  the  wreck  of 
that  unfortunate  vessel,  "built  in  the  eclipse  and  rigged  with  curses  dark,"  the 
Home  -,  which  went  to  pieces  on  Cape  Hatteras*  Though  slight  of  body,  he 
might  have  saved  himself  without  much  difficulty,  could  he  have  abandoned  his 
wife,  to  rescue  whom  he  sacrificed  himself.  Their  bodies  were  driven  ashore  by 
fhe  sea  fast-locked  in  each  other's  arms. 

*  It  was  a  hereditary  gift  in  his  mother's  family. 

t  He  delighted  in  every  part  of  the  great  poet  and  champion  of  Civil  and 
Religious  Liberty, not  Licence;  but  particularly  in  this  magnificent  satanic  debate, 
and  in  the  wild  grandeur,  energy  and  pity  of  the  "Samson  Agonistes."    A  pocket 
Milton  was  almost  always  one  of  his  travelling  companions,  as  he  has  told  us. 
VOL.  I. — D 


XXXIV.  BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE. 

pitch,  of  those  tones,  whether  deep  and  \tm  or  of  the  most  command- 
ing force,  or  sharp  and  sudden,  or  flowing  and  easy,  or  rapid  and  over- 
whelming in  the  hurry  of  the  passions — of  the  indefinable  tone  which? 
in  each  of  these  moods  of  sound  appropriate  to  the  feeling,  seizes 
upon  the  senses  and  captivates  the  imagination — he  developed  to  the 
utmost.  His  articulation  became  golden  in  its  distinctness  ;  his  into- 
nations, without  any  false  or  unmanly  cadences  that  gave  the  idea  of 
artifice,  as  pure  and  beautiful  a»  those  of  Italian  song.  To  this,  alone, 
indeed,  as  a  system  of  sound  the  most  perfect,  could  his  management 
of  speech  be  likened.  Thus  trained,  his  voice  became  clear,  musical, 
delicate,  true  in  its  minutest  inflections  ;  while,  in  its  more  vehement 
bursts,  it  grew  capable  of  filling  the  air  with  its  absolute  thunders,  to 
which  we  have  often  felt  a  large  legislative  hall  tremble  and  ring- 
He  conquered,  in  like  manner,  or  contrived  to  hide,  his  bodily  defects, 
so  as  to  attain  a  command  of  gesture  sufficient  to  second  the  beautiful 
recitative  of  his  voice  and  the  play  of  features  highly  oratorical  even 
in  the  only  part  where  they  deviated  from  regularity — lip*  and  mouth 
large,  passionate  and  scornful :  a  countenance  altogether  striking  and 
imposing,  lighted  up  with  high  intellect  and  feeling,  and  fit  to  mirror 
all  that  eloquence  can  express. 

To  the  traits  of  this  part  of  his  life,  we  have  but  to  add  some 
parting  ones,  of  his  college  course.  He  had  been  admitted  into  col- 
lege, on  the  16th  of  January,  1812,  after  (it  would  appear  from  his 
letters)  a  very  brief  examination  in  Latin  and  Greek,  so  excellently 
met  that  the  professors  were  speedily  satisfied  that  they  had  gotten 
hold  of  a  pupil  who  would  justify  to  the  full  the  strong  recommenda- 
tion of  his  respected  instructor.  He  seems  to  have  formed  at  once 
the  highest  admiration  of  the  abilities  and  worth  of  the  heads  of  the 
Institution,  and  of  the  ample  advantages  which  it  afforded.  In  the 
sudden  command  of  such  means  of  knowledge,  he  appears,  for  some 
time,  to  have  in  a  manner  rioted  through  his  larger  studies  and  been 
completely  happy.  But  even  in  that  cup  of  early  intellectual  enjoy- 
ment, some  bitter  mingles  :*  there  are  idlers,  even  among  studious 
cells  ;  dunces  even  amidst  college  shades ;  and  they  broke  upon  his 
hours  and  infested  his  rooms.  To  rid  himself  of  them  was  to  make 
himself  unpopular,  unless  at  the  cost  of  shunning  even  congenial 
companions.  Yet  this  he  seems  for  some  time  to  have  done  :  for  his 
letters  of  the  first  two  years  of  residence  describe  to  his  mother  and 
sister  his  habits  as  recluse,  his  feelings  as  of  distaste  for  diversion) 

'Fonte  de  medio  leporum 


Surgit  amari  aliq,uid." 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE.  XXXV, 

within  the  walls  and  for  society  without.  He  mentions,  in  his  pro- 
gress, the  distribution  of  his  time;  of  which  about  seven  hours  were 
given  to  his  classes  and  recitations,  eight  to  his  own  voluntary  studies, 
two  to  meals  and  exercise,  the  rest  to  sleep.  In  his  senior  year,  how- 
over,  his  labours  themselves  appear  to  have  retrieved  the  popularity 
which  they  had  compelled  him  to  forfeit :  the  regular  superiority  of 
his  performances,  whether  in  the  lecture-room  or  his  society,  drew  to 
him  a  general  admiration.  He  came  to  be  considered,  on  all  sides, 
among  students  as  well  as  professors,  a  youth  such  as  the  college  had 
perhaps  never  before  contained.  Contending  with  his  fellow-pupils, 
not  courting  them,  he  rose  to  such  esteem  among  them  that  they  con- 
ferred upon  him,  unsought,  the  presidency  of  the  literary  society 
which  he  had  joined :  and  when,  upon  occasion  of  his  assuming  the 
honour  thus  awarded,  he  pronounced  an  extemporaneous  oration  in 
praise  of  eloquence  and  its  uses,  he  was  hailed  with  universal  delight, 
as  having  not  only  admirably  explained  the  art,  but  singularly  illustra- 
ted it  in  his  own  person.  Towards  the  close  of  his  course,  and  up  to 
its  last  public  effort  as  first  graduate,  applause  and  reputation  the 
most  extraordinary  for  such  a  period  of  life  thickened  upon  him,,  and 
spread  his  name  and  the  expectation  of  his  future  eminence  all  over 
his  own  and  the  neighbouring  States. 

Yet  he  had  just  been  preceded  by  another,  to  whom  nature  had  been 
signally  lavish  of  many  of  the  brilliant  qualities  that  adorned  Legare, 
and  especially  of  the  hereditary  gift*  of  eloquence  and  of  the  abilities 
for  a  high  public  part.  These  were  set  off  by  great  advantages  of 
manner  and  person,  a  natural  charm  of  speech  the  most  striking, 
accomplishments  only  inferior  to  Legare's  among  all  that  have  figured 
in  our  councils,  a  personal  bearing  singularly  winning,  honour,  fidelity, 
political  probity,  public  aims  all  elevated  and  generous.  It  was  as 
the  immediate  successor  of  such  a  person  that  Legare  rose,  at  only 
eighteen,  to  this  sort  of  celebrity.     He  had  not  only  given,  like  the 

*  Mr.  Preston  is,  by  the  maternal  line,  of  the  Henry  family.  Legare"  and  he, 
associated  by  like  aims,  though  of  unequal  classes,  formed  a  college  friendship, 
for  a  while  suspended  by  the  return  of  the  latter  to  his  native  State.  It  was, 
however,  speedily  restored  by  their  common  pursuit  of  improvement  abroad, 
where  similarity  of  studies  again  placed  them  together  in  Paris  and  at  Edinburgh. 
Parting  again,  they  again  met  in  their  professional  and  public  career,  appointed 
rivals  of  reputation,  but  dear  friends,  enjoying  and  aiding  each  the  admiration 
showered  upon  the  other.  The  contests  of  Nullification  found  them  of  opposite 
parties,  but  the  same  feelings;  and  Legare's  embassy  once  more  placed  them  in 
different  countries ;  but  again  to  be  united  in  the  same  cause,  in  the  great  civil 
struggle  of  1837-40. 


XXXVI.  BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE. 

other,  every  early  proof  of  capacity,  but  manifested  the  chief  power,  that 
carries  all  other  powers  to  perfection — that  of  a  labour  which  nothing' 
can  daunt,  nothing-  can  escape,  and  which  teaches  no  subject  nor  no 
performance  without  improvement.  Superior  to  the  other  only  in  this 
faculty — or  rather,  we  should  perhaps  say,  this  vehemence  of  the 
impulse  to  whatever  can  give  to  the  most  vigorous  faculties  the  utmost 
regularity  and  nobleness ;  scarcely  his  equal  in  the  mere  happiness  of 
nature ;  he  had  yet  made  it  felt  on  all  hands  that  here  was  a  genius 
that  must  achieve  everything  which  toil  can  accomplish  for  parts  the 
finest,  and  eclipse  at  last  all  competitors. 

He  was  graduated,*  with  the  highest,  honours  of  the  college,  in 
the  beginning  of  December,  1814.  In  spite  of  the  continual  applause 
which  had  been  gathering  upon  him  during  the  year,  his  reluctance 
to  perform  the  leading  part  at  commencement  assigned  him  was  ex- 
treme, and  not  to  be  vanquished  until  the  President,  and  one  of  the 
Professors  next  in  his  confidence,  had  insisted  that  the  oration  which 
he  submitted  to  them  was  far  above  his  own  estimate,  and  would  do 
him  the  highest  credit.  At  last  his  severe  self-criticism  and  distrust 
yielded  to  these  maturer  judgments,  and  he  delivered,  with  signal 
success,  a  discourse  "On  the  influence  of  the  imagination  upon  human 
happiness:"  a  subject  to  the  choice  of  which  he  had  been  probably 
conducted  by  the  fits  of  dejection  and  discouragement  to  which  his 
own  temperament  of  mixed  ardour  and  melancholy  exposed  him. 

Of  the  matured  man,  his  intellect  and  his  actions,  the  performances 
themselves  are  in  a  great  degree  the  history.  Illustrating,  as  nothing 
else  can  do,  his  mind  and  character  when  these,  their  plasticity  ceas- 
ing, have  hardened  into  a  form  and  lineaments  no  more  to  change, 
they  need  but  narrative  enough  to  correct  them  ;  and  all  the  rest  may 
be  left  to  the  critic  and  the  biographer.  In  our  riper  years,  in  a  word, 
we  write  our  own  lives,  brightly  or  obliviously  according  to  the  deeds 
and  the  thoughts  which  we  have.  Legare  did  and  would  have  done 
this  in  a  very  noble  manner,  and  requires,  therefore,  but  little  elucida- 
tion. Thinking  thus,  we  shall  proceed  rapidly  over  the  greater  part 
of  his  further  career ;  while,  on  the  contrary,  we  have  chosen  to  dwell 
with  some  minuteness  upon  the  tale  of  his  youthful  labours,  told  only 
as  yet  in  their  results.     The  admirable  spirit  that  early  fired  him  and 

+  A  letter  to  his  mother  (10th  Nov.  1814)  supplies  the  order  and  names  of  those 
who  shared  the  honours  with  him. 

"The  nomination  is  as  follows:  Valedictory,  H.  S.  Legare* :  Salid/itory,  Trescot: 
Intermediate  Orati/ms  to  Camak,  Dupre",  Campbell,  T.  Legare',  Haig  (the  last  in 
French).    The  Debate  to  Maxwell,  McComb  and  O'Brien. 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE.  XXXV11. 

gave  such  sure  presage  of  greatness ;  all  that  might  display  the  boy 
that  rose  into  such  a  man  like  this;  the  process  of  his  whole  toil  of 
self-formation ;  the  difficulties  which  he  surmounted,  the  methods 
which  he  employed,  have  seemed  to  us  the  part  of  his  life  to  which 
we  might  best  give  space.  As  a  public  man,  for  public  men,  his 
story  and  his  labours  were  already  accessible :  it  was  the  boy  and  the 
student,  for  youths  and  scholars,  that  it  had  yet  need  to  be  written. 
In  the  men,  indeed,  who  have  shown  as  eminent,  it  is  this  earlier 
existence  that  we  are  most  curious  to  know.  'Tis  the  more  legendary 
part  of  their  being — the  fable,  the  poetry,  the  romance  of  greatness, 
and  such  to  it  as  the  Golden  to  the  Historic  Age ;  a  time  to  the  glad- 
ness and  beauty  of  which  we  turn  with  pleasure  from  the  Real ;  an 
era  within  which  the  imagination  has  play,  and  may  call  up  more  of 
its  own.  Perhaps  our  unconscious  envy  begets  in  us  this  fondness  of 
knowing  famous  men  in  the  least  imposing  aspect  and  of  looking 
down  upon  them,  as  it  were.  Or  it  may  be  that,  as  even  the  least 
day-dreamy  of  us  recur  with  delight  to  a  sort  of  visionary  memory  of 
our  own  young  day,  its  innocence  and  happiness,  so,  and  through  the 
same  feelings,  we  love  to  look  upon  greatness  through  the  golden  light 
of  youth. 

He  now  returned  to  what  was  ever  his  favorite  habitation — his 
mother's  house  in  Charleston.  To  that  cultivated  city,  the  seat  of  all 
his  boyish  memories,  of  all  those  only  local  attachments  which  they 
of  a  temperament  full  of  meditation  and  sensibility  are  sure  to  retain 
through  life,  he  repaired,  to  form,  between  the  studies  which  he  was 
now  to  prosecute  with  increased  ardour,  the  association  with  many 
loving  and  honouring  such  pursuits,  and  the  occasional  relaxation  of 
a  society,  then  (as  probably  yet)  the  most  genial  and  elegant  that  we 
have  ever  known,  a  fresh  affection  for  it,  still  fonder.  It  then  joined 
to  the  intellectual  refinement  which  but  one  of  our  cities*  possesses 
in  an  equal  degree,  an  easy  hospitality,  a  spirit  of  society,  and  a  gay 
and  graceful  amenity  of  the  manners,  which  made  it  a  still  more 
agreeable  abode.  It  was,  indeed,  and  we  imagine  must  still  be  the 
best-bred  and  (in  an  older  sense  of  that  word)  the  humanest  town 
in  all  our  country.  Amidst  its  circles,  Legare  found,  for  the  first 
time,  a  lively  congeniality  with  whatever  a  scholar's  mind  might 
seek  for  its  recreation  or  in  its  repose.  It  grew  at  once  the  centre 
of  his  chief  personal  attachments  and  of  his  main  desires  of  appro- 
val. To  win  its  judgment  and  to  be  cherished  by  it  became  the 
more  intimate  and  cordial  thought  of  an  ambition  which,  with  him, 
*  Boston,  of  course  is  meant. 


XXXV111.  BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE. 

was  always,  more  than  half,  of  the  heart.  And  as  he  referred 
the  main  personal  gratification  of  his  future  successes  to  his  moth- 
er, so  did  he  to  Charleston  the  principal  delight  of  any  public 
admiration.  It  came,  in  a  word,  to  be  the  immediate  idol  of  his  pub- 
lic feelings,  almost  such,  in  his  half-antique  mind,  as  was  the  Greek 
city  to  its  aspiring  inhabitant — his  lesser  country,  the  object  of  a 
nearer  patriotism  than  the  wider  and  colder  one  beyond.  The  rest 
was  duty ;  this,  affection.  Of  this  we  shall  have  again  to  speak,  in 
one  of  the  most,  painful  passages  of  his  afterlife. 

His  profession  had  been  already  chosen,  and  his  studies  shaped 
towards  it.  He  was  now  to  enter  upon  its  more  technical  acquire- 
ment. For  this  purpose,  intent  on  mastering  the  science  of  the  law 
before  he  mixed  with  its  mere  practical  forms,  he  went  not  (as  is 
usual)  into  an  attorney's  office,  but  sought  a  learned  and  skilful  guide 
to  jurisprudence  in  its  largest  and  soundest  principles,  as  a  great  his- 
torical and  moral  study.  In  his  former  tutor,  Mr.  Mitchell  King, 
(now  a  teacher  no  longer,  but  a  leading  barrister  of  Charleston,  as 
since  of  the  State)  he  possessed  a  friend  excellently  qualified  to  direct 
and  eager  to  assist  him.  Under  his  general  supervision,  therefore,  he 
set  about  a  course  of  wide  and  exact  legal  reading,  which,  relieved 
by  the  classics  and  literature  at  large,  occupied  the  next  three  years 
of  his  life.  His  arrival  at  his  21st  year  found  him,  of  course,  amply 
qualified  for  admission  to  the  Bar.  He  had  formed,  however,  a  wor- 
thier scheme  than  that  of  expiating,  in  the  immature  practice  of  five 
or  six  years  of  brieflessness,  the  haste  in  which  our  young  men  almost 
invariably  are  to  be  lawyers.  Filled  with  the  conception  of  what 
must  not  stop  short  of  the  noblest  and  completest  attainments  that 
study  can  confer,  in  countries  where  a  severe  erudition  is  brought  to 
all  the  higher  practical  pursuits,  he  determined  to  finish  his  course 
and  to  perfect  his  liberal  attainments  abroad,  partly  among  the  great 
libraries  and  schools  of  the  French  capital,  and  partly  in  a  German 
or  British  university.  No  meaner  thought  occupied  him — nothing  of 
the  futile  purposes  which  usually  lead  our  youths  of  the  grand  tour 
abroad,  or  which  alone,  at  any  event,  they  often  accomplish — to  acquire 
a  foreign  air ;  to  rid  themselves  of  all  indigenous  sense  ;  to  unfit  them- 
selves, as  much  by  what  they  learn  as  what  they  forget,  for  useful- 
ness, distinction  or  happiness  in  their  own  country :  to  have  marbles 
and  canvases,  masks  and  ballets  and  operas,  actors  and  dancers,  for 
their  talk ;  to  gather  from  guide  books,  ciceroni  and  valets-de-place 
their  antiquarian  or  classic  erudition ;  to  expend  still  profounder  re- 
searches upon  the  comparative  merits  of  Tortoni,  Very,  and  the  Ro- 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE.  XXXIX. 

cher  de  Cancal — upon  the  singing  of  Pasta,  the  fiddling  of  Paganini, 
the  vintages  of  France  or  the  Rhine,  the  clothes  of  Stultz  or  his 
rivals  :*  in  a  word,  disabused  of  all  taste  for  their  own  country,  and 
bringing  back,  to  compensate  them  for  that  sad  loss  of  sympathies, 
little  but  what  it  is  almost  a  shame  to  have  learnt.  To  such  young 
tourists,  there  could  not  be  a  more  complete  opposite  of  the  aims  than 
Legare.  Why  go  so  far  to  come  back  a  trifler,  as  if  travel  alone  could 
make  one  that  ?  With  a  keen  relish  for  the  pleasures  of  life,  yet  almost 
untasted ;  with  youth  and  health  in  his  veins ;  with  an  income  suffi- 
cient to  support  him  agreeably,  if  well-managed ;  he  was  of  course  to 
encounter  the  usual  temptations  of  an  European  and  especially  a 
Parisian  residence,  its  many  appliances  of  pleasant  idleness,  its  abun- 
dant habits  of  systematized  sensuality :  but  other  tastes  still  stronger, 
passions  in  him  still  more  fervid,  existed  to  defend  him  from  yielding 
himself  to  more  loose  delights  or  the  strenuous  waste  of  being  in  a 
gay  nothingness.  Trained  to  self-command,  he  could  taste  without 
intoxication  the  cup  of  permitted  pleasures,  and  even  turn  his  very' 
amusements  into  the  means  of  serious  and  regular  improvement. 

In  the  latter  part  of  the  month  of  May,  1818,  then  he  embarked 
from  Charleston  to  Bordeaux. f  He  himself  describes  his  passage 
and  something  of  his  further  plans,  in  his  first  letter  from  France ;  of 
which  other  parts  also  are  worth  copying,  for  the  picture  of  his  own 
peculiar  character  which  they  give,  and  the  strong  purposes  of  self- 
improvement  which  they  express. 

'■Bordeaux,  24th  June,  1818. 
"My  dear  Mother  : 

"I  hasten  to  communicate  to  you,  by  the  first  opportunity,  the  news 
of  my  safe  arrival  here. 

"Our  passage  across  the  Atlantic  was  as  delightful  as  could  be 
desired.  With  the  exception  of  some  slight  squalls  and  one  thunder- 
storm, we  had  always  fine  weather.  Indeed  the  whole  voyage  was 
more  like  a  party  of  pleasure  on  some  smooth  lake  than  a  transit  over 
the  great  ocean.     We  arrived  within  the  Garonne  on  the  34th  day — 

*  See,  lor  a  perfect  Histoire  generate  des  Voyages  of  these  young  gentlemen,  the 
description  of  the  pupil,  his  suite  and  his  exploits,  in  the  Dunciad,  book  iv,  line 
293. 

t  On  board  a  merchant-ship,  apparently  commanded  by  Captain  Baar,  for 
whom  he  formed  a  strong  attachment,  and  whose  worth  and  continued  good  offices 
he  more  than  once  mentions  in  his  letters;  announcing  afterwards,  from  Edinburg 
his  death,  of  which  he  writes  to  Mrs.  Legar6  as  a  personal  loss  that  had  affected 
him  much. 


Xl.  BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE. 

a  pretty  short  passage,  if  a  calm  of  one  whole  week,  during  which 
the  ship  made  scarcely  any  progress,  be  (as  it  might  in  all  reason) 
deducted. 

"It  is  impossible  for  me  to  describe,  my  dear  mother,  the  anguish 
with  which  I  tore  myself  from  you  on  the  day  of  our  separation,  and 
which  was  so  keenly  renewed  when  I  left  the  wharf  and  the  harbour 
of  Charleston.  To  realize  such  sensations,  it  is  necessary  for  a  man 
not  only  to  be  placed  in  the  same  situation,  but  to  have  the  same  turn 
of  mind  as  myself.  He  must  be  violent,  almost  to  madness  in  his 
passions ;  and  must  at  the  same  time  experience  more  than  one.  He 
must  forget  how  to  hope,  and,  while  he  aims  at  every  thing  that  is 
exalted,  must  look  for  nothing  but  disappointment  and  mortification. 
In  short,  I  am  persuaded  that  such  situations  as  mine  was  at  that 
time,  very  rarely  occur  in  the  course  of  one's  life :  at  least  I  wish  to 
persuade  myself  so :  it  was  a  most  dreadful  conflict  of  opposite  feel- 
ings that  threw  me  into  such  a  state  of  irresolution  as  must,  if  in- 
dulged, prove  fatal  to  every  generous  undertaking. 

"Well,  it  was  impossible  for  me  to  change  my  nature ;  and  I  am 
not  ashamed  of  the  tears  I  shed :  but  1  have  reason  to  congratulate 
myself  upon  the  constancy  with  which  I  adhered  to  my  resolution. 
One  of  my  objects — the  restoration  of  my  health  and  strength — has 
been,  in  a  great  measure,  attained;  or,  at  least,  I  have  good  reason  to 
hope,  will  be  attained  before  long:  I  am  much  better  than  I  have  been 
since  I  returned  from  the  North ;  and  there  is  no  doubt  that  a  little  repose 
here,  with  good  eating  and  drinking,  etc.,  and  afterwards  my  travels  by 
land,  will  do  still  more  for  me.  I  may  say  the  same  of  all  my  other 
objects.  A  glorious  prospect  is  set  open  before  me,  and  I,  thank  God ! 
have  spirits  enough  to  think  of  availing  myself  of  every  advantage 
and  realizing  every  hope. 

"On  Monday  or  Tuesday  (the  29th  or  30th  June)  I  set  off  upon 
my  journey  to  Paris,  where  I  think  of  remaining  until  the  latter  end 
of  September.  I  intend  to  perfect  myself  there  in  the  French  lan- 
guage— that  is,  to  acquire  the  greatest  facility  and  some  degree  of 
correctness  in  the  use  of  it ;  for  that  is  the  whole  force  of  the  term 
"to  perfect,"when  we  speak  of  making,  within  any  given  time,  a 
progress  in  a  language.  Thence  I  proceed  to  the  University  of  Got- 
tingen,  and  so  forth.  But  it  is  better  to  postpone  for  a  further  oppor- 
tunity my  account  of  these  things,  as  I  may  see  some  reason,  when  I 
arrive  at  Paris,  to  alter  my  plans  a  little. 

"As  soon  as  I  settle  myself  there, — that  is,  in  a  week  or  ten  days, 
I   will  employ  three  teachers,   who  shall  attend  me  at  my  lodgings 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE. 


xli. 


every  day ;  an  Italian,  a  scholar  who  is  thoroughly  versed  in  Latin 
and  who  will  also  assist  me  in  French  ;  and  perhaps  a  Drawing-mas- 
ter* For  I  have  already  had  cause  to  regret  that  I  had  not  the  use 
of  the  pencil,  as  I  passed  along  those  enchanting  scenes  that  adorn 
the  banks  of  the  Garonne.  In  this  last  idea,  however.  I  am  by  no 
means  fixed ;  as  I  shall  certainly  not  think  of  taking  up  with  any 
new  pursuit,  unless  I  see  it  is  perfectly  consistent  with  my  old  ones." 

He  proceeds  in  the  remainder  of  the  letter,  to  speak  of  the  agreeable 
manner  of  lodging  and  feeding  in  France ;  of  his  friend  Captain  Baar 
and  the  general  love  which  he  seems  to  enjoy  in  Bordeaux,  though  a 
foreigner,  and  of  his  own  agreeable  companion  of  the  voyage,  Dr. 
Raoul. 

What  immediate  studies  he  sat  about,  we  have  already  seen :  for 
we  have  shown  what  he  designed ;  and  never  did  he  fall  short  of  any 
intellectual  enterprize  that  he  had  proposed  to  himself.  French  he 
already  possessed  very  perfectly,  as  a  literary  language ;  but  spoke  it 
(as  *ve  have  known  to  happen  in  some  other  instances)  in  a  style 
which,  by  its  very  purity — beyond  that,  which  any  dialect  has  in  mere 
conversation- — marked  the  fact  that  it  was  not  a  native  speech,  but 
one  formed  almost  entirely  from  books.*  He  had,  therefore,  only  to 
accustom  himself  to  the  use  of  its  more  familiar  and  idiomatic  dic- 
tion— a  task  which  of  course  cost  him  little.  Italian,  we  believe,  he 
had  not  yet  attempted  ;  but  that,  also,  he  mastered  very  thoroughly, 
during  his  sojourn  in  Paris.  We  ourselves  happen  to  know  the  de- 
light which  he  ever  after  took  in  it,  as  the  richest  and  far  the  most 
beautiful  of  tongues,  except  the  Greek,  in  its  elegant  literature.  These 
languages  we  know,  too,  he  had  pursued — as  he  had  done  and  con- 
tinued to  do  others — not  merely  with  the  usual  loose  idea  of  obtaining 
access  to  the  main  mass  of  their  authois,  or  still  less  for  the  variety 
of  tongues :  he  was  obviously  guided  by  a  far  higher  notion,  and  saw 
that  languages,  for  the  nobler  purposes,  were  to  be  valued  chiefly  for 
the  great  books,  the  works  of  genius  which  they  contained  ;  and  that 
he  who  does  not  bestow  upon  these  a  fond  and  thorough  study  can 
draw  from  the  knowledge  of  a  new  dialect  but  an  exceedingly  com- 
mon-place benefit,  amounting  to  but  little  more  than  might  be  derived 
from  translations.     The  immortal  performances,  then,  in  each  body  of 

*  Mr.  Preston  says,  in  his  "Eulogy,"  "The  precision  and  elegance  with  which 
he,  even  then,  spoke  the  language,  was  the  subject  of  frequent  remark  and  com- 
pliment. A  very  accomplished  lady  said  to  him  '  That  he  was  only  too  Attic  to 
be  an  Athenian.'  "  We  need  hardly  remind  our  readers  of  the  Greek  anecdote 
to  which  she  alluded. 
VOL.  I. E 


Xlii.  BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE, 

literature,  were  his  great  object,  that  he  might  transfuse  these  into  hts 
mind,  and  ennoble  and  invigorate  with  them  his  own  conceptions  as 
an  orator  or  an  author.  The  positive  information  which  they  opened  to 
him  in  definite  pursuits ;  as  Law  or  History  or  Politics — he  of  course  did 
not  fail  to  seize:  but  to  their  mere  mediocrities — the  world  of  books 
that  make  up  the  middle-class  or  the  common-people  of  Letters  in 
our  modern  libraries — he  paid,  on  account  of  their  merely  being  in  a 
foreign  dress,  no  more  attention  than  if  they  had  come  to  him  in  his 
vernacular.  In  a  word,  he  knew  the  art  of  study,  so  little  compre- 
hended even  among  scholars  themselves. 

It  will  be  recollected  that  the  renewal  of  his  literary  studies  of  the 
Latin  was  also  a  part  of  his  present  plan  of  labour,  though  heretofore 
less  his  favorite  than  Greek.  For  the  moment,  as  presently  to  be 
the  vehicle  of  his  proposed  course  of  civil  law,  it  was  necessary  that 
he  should  now  prefer  it.  We  know  full  well  that  already,  amidst 
his  three  years'  prosecution  of  the  common  law,  he  had,  in  its  daily 
intervals,  greatly  enlarged  and  perfected  his  classical  reading,  passing 
from  the  mere  academic  methods  of 

"What  Gellius  and  Stoboeus  hashed  before, 

Or  chewed  by  blind  old  scholiasts  o'er  and  o'er," 

to  the  more  rare  and  elegant  cultivation  of  the  ancient  languages. 

But,  consulting,  for  the  time,  his  tastes,  he  had  probably,  except 
Cicero  and  a  few  others,  occupied  himself  rather  with  the  Greeks 
than  the  Latins.  With  what  effect  he  now  turned  himself  to  the 
latter  in  especial  will  soon  appear,  in  one  of  the  incidents  of  his  course 
at  Edinburg. 

Meanwhile,  as  we  have  already  intimated,  his  very  relaxations  were 
turned  to  a  system  of  continual  self-improvemenU  Besides  an  occa- 
sional attendance  upon  the  debates  of  the  French  Chambers,  when 
an  eminent  speaker  (Foy,  Manuel,  Chateaubriand  or  the  like)  was  to 
be  heard,  the  great  libraries,  the  almost  unequalled  collections  in  art, 
and  the  theatres,  dramatic  and  musical,  supplied  him  amusements 
fruitful  in  the  cultivation  of  his  taste  or  the  gratification  of  an  en- 
lightened curiosity  Of  this  part  of  his  studies  (as  they  really  were 
in  no  small  degree)  we  possess  an  account  from  his  accomplished 
friend  (already  more  than  once  referred  to)  again  his  companion  here ; 
and  as  we  cannot  so  authentically  draw  from  any  other  source,  we 
shall,  as  to  Legare's  further  pursuits  in  Paris  and  his  residence  al 
Edinburg,  follow  closely  his  fellow-student's  narrative,* 

*  In  the  "Eulogy,"  by  Mr.  Preston. 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE.  xllil. 

The  Louvre  and  other  galleries  of  art  furnished  him  a  continual 
delight  for  an  imagination  already  filled  with  glowing,  if  less  distinct 
forms  of  the  beautiful  and  the  heroic.  His  sensibilities  to  whatever 
can,  either  in  marble  or  upon  canvass,  give  a  visible  shape  to  what 
poets  or  historians  have  told,  were  originally  lively  in  the  extreme  and 
had  been  rendered  still  more  passionate  by  the  abundant  images  of 
art-like  subjects  and  associations  with  which  his  mind  was  stored. 
The  Louvre  was  still  rich,  though  diminished,  since  1818,  of  a  large 
part  of  those  Italian  and  Flemish  treasures,  the  worthiest  spoil  of  all 
that  Napoleon  had  ravished,  and  which  poor  Ausonia  at  least  prized 
beyond  either  the  national  independence  which  she  had  lost  or  the 
"republican  institutions"  which  she  had  gained.  Except  the  collec- 
tions of  the  Vatican  and  of  Florence,  it  was  still  the  finest  in  Europe. 
'Twas  here,  in  part,  that  the  most  classical  of  all  actors*  had  caught, 
from  the  animated  works  around  him,  action  and  majesty  for  the 
stage ;  and  for  Legare's  art  it  Was  capable  of  being  equally  a  school. 
The  more  regular  theatre,  too, — maintained  by  governmental  policy 
at  such  an  excellence  as  might  amuse  into  quiet  a  population  always 
either  fierce  or  frivolous, — offered  him  the  study  of  the  mimetic  art, 
in  great  perfection  He  there  could  hear  continually  the  unrivalled 
declamation  of  Talma  and  Duchesnois,  the  graceful  ease  and  spirit 
of  M'lle  Mars'  inimitable  comedy.  From  these,  when  too  weary 
with  extreme  application  to  make  any  serious  effort  of  attention,  he 
would  turn  to  the  minor  theatres  and  shake  with  laughter  over  the 
gross  farce  of  the  Variety's,  the  rich  drollery  of  Potier,  or  the  mum- 
meries of  the  Vaudeville,  much  as,  in  our  younger  days,  we  have 
often  seen  the  greatest  of  our  chief  justices!  do,  in  the  Richmond  the- 
atre, over  vastly  inferior  performances.  Like  him  in  the  simplicity  of 
heart  which  beneath  the  austerest  intellectual  labours  he  preserved, 
and  into  which  he  loved  at  times  to  unbend,  Legare  gave  himself  up 
to  such  amusements,  when  they  came,  with  all  the  gladsomeness  of 
a  boy,  or  a  rustic.  Indeed,  we  have  often  seen  him  do  the  same 
thing,  in  an  intimate  and  joyous  society,  where,  unchecked  by  any 
presence  of  a  fool  or  a  stranger,  he  could  abandon  himself,  among  those 
of  a  congenial  humour,  to  the  completest  gamesomeness.  At  such 
moments,  the  child-like  glee  and  prank,  that  mixed  and  contrasted 
with  his  customary  shyness  and  with  the  richness  and  loftiness  of  his 
understanding,  were  not  less  attractive  and  happy  than  was  the  play 

*  Talma,  who  studied  the  antique  in  particular,  and  often  made  his  scenes  and 
attitudes  so  many  classic  pictures. 
t  Judge  Marshall. 


Xliv.  BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE. 

of  his  mind,  over  its  wide  range  of  thought  and  allusion,  brillianty 
in  more  regular  conversation.  His  talk,  indeed,  in  whatever  mood, 
was  admirable. 

While  studying  in  Paris,  he  had  leisure  to  decide,  with  the  best 
information,  upon  the  university  at  which  he  should  prosecute  his 
proposed  course  of  jurisprudence,  and  finally  determined  upon  Edin- 
burg,  instead  of  Gottingen,  to  which  he  had  originally  inclined.  For 
the  former  place,  then,  apparently  about  the  close  of  September,  1818, 
he  quitted  Paris.  Taking  London  in  his  way,  he  was  there  (as  his 
letters  show)  in  October ;  but,  Parliament  not  being  in  session,  re- 
mained only  long  enough  to  survey  the  general  objects  of  curiosity 
in  that  city,  and  passed  on,  by  that  border-land  where  his  stalwart 
ancestry  plied  of  old  the  spur,  the  lance,  the  battle-axe  and  the  mace, 
to  the  ancient  queen  of  Scottish  cities,  where  now  reigned  Sir  Walter, 
instead  of  a  Bruce,  and  flourished  Jeffrey  and  Leslie  and  Wilson  and 
Brown  and  Playfair  and  Alison,  instead  of  the  tough  chieftains  of 
the  olden  time  when  that  mighty  Douglas  surnamed  Bell-the-cat 
thanked  heaven  that,  besides  his  bishop-son  Gawain,  no  child  of  his 
ever  knew  the  alphabet.* 

Here,  he  entered  the  classes  of  civil  law,  of  natural  philosophy,  and 
of  mathematics,  over  which  presided  Irving,  Playfair  and  Leslie ; 
becoming,  also,  a  member  of  the  private  class  of  Dr.  Murray,  the 
distinguished  lecturer  on  chemistry.  Except  upon  the  first  of  these, 
however,  he  tasked  himself  to  no  reading :  having  already  passed 
over  the  ground  in  the  others,  he  only  desired  to  attend  more  masterly 
professors.  His  main  labour  was  given  to  the  civil  law  ;  and  a  fur- 
ther course  of  Italian  literature  formed  his  chief  relaxation.  Mr. 
Preston  (his  fellow-student  there)  says,  "He  gave  three  hours  a  day 
to  Playfair,  Leslie  and  Murray,  in  the  lecture  room.  From  eight  to 
ten  were  devoted  to  Heineccius,  Cujacius  and  Terrasson ;  side  by 
side  with  whom  lay  upon  his  table  Dante  and  Tasso,  Guicciardini, 
Davila  and  Machiavelli."  Assigning  to  the  latter  from  two  to  four 
hours,  we  have  him  thus  at  his  usual  measure  of  some  fifteen  hours 
of  daily  study. 

"To  this  mass  of  labour,"  continues  Mr.  Preston,  "he  addressed 
himself  with  a  quiet  diligence,  sometimes  animated  into  a  sort  of 
intellectual  joy.  On  one  occasion,  he  found  himself  at  breakfast, 
Sunday  morning,  on  the  same  seat  where  he  had  breakfasted  the  day 

*  The  trait  has  no  immediate  authority  except  Marmion;  but  is  quite  in  the 
spirit  of  the  age  to  which  Scott  applies  it. 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE.  xlv. 

before — not  having  quitted  it  meantime.  Still,  he  made  himself  lei- 
sure for  society  and  for  an  extensive  correspondence  with  his  friends. 

"The  professor  of  civil  law,  Mr.  Irving,"  continues  the  same  au- 
thority, "was  a  man  of  small  talent  and  moderate  learning  in  his 
department,  although  not  without  general  erudition — as  is  shown  in 
his  life  of  Buchanan.  He  was,  however,  earnest  and  attentive.  The 
business  of  the  class-room  was  conducted  in  Latin — the  only  vestige 
of  this  ancient  custom  remaining  in  the  university.  The  daily  exam- 
inations were,  of  course,  very  much  confined  to  the  technical  language 
of  the  text-books ;  so  that  when  any  thing  occurred  requiring  a  more 
copious  vocabulary,  the  language,  on  the  part  of  the  student  at  least, 
was  a  very  lame  and  imperfect  latinity.  It  happened,  once,  while  Mr. 
Legare  was  under  examination,  that  some  difference  of  opinion  arose 
between  him  and  the  professor,  on  the  construction  of  a  passage  in 
the  Institutes.  Mr.  Legare  maintained  his  opinion  with  warmth ;  and 
at  length  astonished  the  class  and  the  professor,  by  the  elegant  facili- 
ty of  his  diction  aud  the  extent  of  his  reading.  Dr.  Irving  thought 
the  character  of  the  discussion  such  as  to  require  from  him  a  written 
exposition  of  the  point  in  controversy,  which  he  sent  to  a  member  of 
the  class,  a  friend  of  Mr.  Legare." 

Up  to  his  Edinburg  residence,  he  had  probably  but  little  designed 
to  give  their  subsequent  magnitude  to  his  studies  of  the  civil  law, 
and  had  only  sought  such  acquaintance  with  it  as  his  learned  curios- 
ity suggested  and  his  love  of  giving  completeness  to  whatever  know- 
ledge formed  an  auxiliary  part  of  his  main  pursuits.  In  his  historical 
reading  and  in  the  occasional  elucidations  borrowed  from  it  in  his 
teachers  of  the  common  law,  he  had  been  only  able  to  obtain  distant 
glimpses  of  its  possible  utility:  but  now,  in  its  wide  and  regular 
principles,  the  accumulation  of  such  long-applied  learning  and  ability, 
it  rose  upon  his  sight  as.  a  great  and  noble  science,  capable  of  being- 
brought  to  enlighten,  as  had  never  yet  been  done,  the  narrower  and 
more  dogmatic  methods  of  our  inherited  or  native  jurisprudence.  Its 
exacter  and  more  elegant  vehicle  and  authors,  and  its  close  connection 
with  his  favorite  bodies  of  literature  and  history  served  also,  no  doubt, 
greatly  to  allure  him.  It  became  henceforth,  therefore,  one  of  his 
regular  studies,  especially  as  mixing  so  much  with  another — that  of 
law  natural  and  national ;  and  finally  grew  (as  we  shall  see)  to  be 
one  of  his  chief  attainments,  with  a  view  to  a  very  lofty  and  bold 
juridical  purpose. 

During  his  stay  in  Edinburg,  he  visited  Glasgow,  to  hear  the  justly 
celebrated  Dr.  Chalmers.     He  was  greatly  struck  with  his  abilities 


Xlvi.  BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE. 

as  well  as  eloquence,  and  ever  after  looked  on  him  as  the  first  of  the 
living  orators  of  Europe.  It  was  in  Edinburg,  too,  that  his  first  ac- 
quaintance, ripened  afterwards  into  an  intimate  and  permanent  friend- 
ship, was  formed  with  the  accomplished  and  amiable  American  scho- 
lar, under  whose  roof  and  in  whose  arms  he  was  destined  to  breathe 
his  last.* 

Of  his  letters  during  this  particular  period,  but  a  single  one,  ad- 
dressed to  his  mother  and  chiefly  remarkable  for  the  filial  devotedness 
which  it  betokens,  has  come  into  our  hands.  Though  touching  not 
a  little  upon  her  private  affairs,  at  the  condition  of  which  certain  im- 
pressions in  her  letters  (too  strongly  interrupted  by  his  own  proneness 
to  despondency)  had  filled  him  with  ill-grounded  apprehensions,  yet 
as  marking  his  present  purposes,  plans  and  feelings  to  her  from  whom 
he  never  concealed  a  thought,  it  cannot  be  read  without  interest. 

Edinburg,  \bth  FcVy,  1819. 

"I  wrote  you  a  letter,  my  dear  mother,  about  a  week  ago,  and  had 
put  it  into  the  hands  of  Arthur  Buist,  to  forward  to  his  correspondent 
at  Glasgow ;  but,  as  it  was  not  yet  sent,  I  had  it  in  my  power  to 
withdraw  it,  upon  receiving — as  I  have  done  with  inexpressible  pleas- 
ure to-day — your  letter  of  the  29th  November,  enclosing  one  from 
Mary  and  accompanied  by  another  from  Mr.  King.  I  say  the  receiv- 
ing of  them  gave  me  great  pleasure ;  for  I  had  passed  two  whole 
months  in  that  sort  of  sickness  of  the  heart  "which  springeth  from 
hope  deferred,"  and  especially  when  that  hope  relates  to  an  object  so 
deeply  interesting  as  a  letter  from  home  to  a  poor  solitary  pilgrim  in 
such  a  distant  land. 

"But  the  emotion,  as  it  happened,  was  by  no  means  unmixed :  this 
little  packet  was  sent  me  by  Mr.  Baar,  Jr ,  from  Bordeaux,  enveloped 
in  a  letter  of  his  own,  announcing  to  me  the  melancholy  tidings  of 
his  father's  death ;  which  happened  the  26th  of  last  month.  I  was, 
of  course,  deeply  affected  at  it.  He  was,  indeed,  a  most  worthy  man, 
and  had  behaved  in  the  most  friendly  manner  possible  towards  me. 
The  event,  besides,  was  quite  unexpected  ;  for  I  never  saw  any  body 
at  the  age  of  sixty-four  so  fresh  and  vigorous  as  he  was,  or  who  pro- 
mised so  fair  to  live  beyond  three-score  years  and  ten. 

"This,  however,  was  not  the  only  circumstance  that  damped  my 
spirits :  in  reading  your  letter,  I  thought  I  could  discover  a  sort  of 

*  Professor  George  Tichenor  of  Harvard;  at  whose  country-house,  in  1841, 
he  received  his  appointment  of  Attorney  General ;  and,  at  whose  mansion  in 
Boston,  in  1843,  by  a  singular  coincidence,  he  expired,  in  his  next  visit. 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE.  Xlvii. 

despondency  that  was  diffused  throughout  it.  My  dear  mother,  I 
should  be  very  sorry  ^-indeed  could  never  forgive  myself — if  I  thought 
that,  by  leaving  home,  I  had  exposed  you  to  a  return  of  the  same 
troubles  and  embarrassments  I  found  you  in  when  I  came  from  col- 
lege. The  whole  happiness  of  my  life  is  henceforth  to  make  you 
happy.  Nothing  of  my  future  prospects  is  of  the  least  importance 
in  my  eyes,  when  compared  with  this  paramount  and  holy  duty. 
Alas !  your  whole  life  has  been  one  series  of  the  most  noble  struggles 
against  all  sorts  of  difficulties.  A  widow  in  mere  youth,  your  pro- 
perty sinking  every  day  in  value,  all  prospect  of  external  assistance 
precluded,  a  broken  constitution  and  almost  a  broken  heart — such  was 
the  weight  that  pressed  upon  you  ;  sufficient,  no  doubt,  to  have  crushed 
any  ordinary  constancy — but  which  only  served  to  give  additional 
energy  to  yours.  You  have,  I  venture  to  say  it,  you  have  most  com- 
pletely triumphed :  for  by  far  thje  most  important  business  of  life — 
the  rearing  up  a  promising  family  of  children — has  been  done  by  you 
in  a  manner  as  perfect  as  possible  in  the  present  state  of  the  country 
and  quite  miraculous  when  compared  with  your  means.  If  vanity 
has  any  share  in  this  avowal,  I  am  not  conscious  of  it :  on  the  con- 
trary, it  is  because  I  feel  in  all  its  vastness  and  sacredness  the  obliga- 
tion I  am  under  to  you,  and  because  I  intend  to  make  every  effort  to 
discharge  it  as  far  as  that  is  possible,  that  I  do  not  hesitate  to  confess 
it  to  you.  Judge,  then,  what  uneasiness  it  must  occasion  me  to  think 
I  am  the  cause  to  you  of  any  sacrifice  either  of  fortune  or  repose. 

"I  now  regret  that  I  have  said  so  much  to  you  about  travelling  in 
Italy.  As  that  would  be  quite  inconsistent  with  the  present  state  of 
your  affairs,  it  will  only  serve  to  excite  unavailing  regrets  to  mention 
it.  Besides,  in  the  actual  state  of  my  own  mind,  I  would  not  wish 
to  do  it ;  and  I  have  come  to  a  determination,  upon  reading  your 
letter  and  that  of  Mr.  King,  to  return  home  next.  fall.  What  I  shall 
do  in  the  mean  time  is  not  yet  entirely  decided ;  because  other  letters 
or  circumstances  may  change  my  intentions,  within  the  next  six 
weeks.  But  if  they  do  not,  I  propose  to  make,  about  the  beginning 
of  April,  a  short  tour  in  the  Highlands  ;  and  then  return  immediately 
to  London  where  I  shall  spend  a  few  days,  in  order  to  see  Parliament 
in  session,  Richmond  Hill,  and  a  few  other  things  which  I  had  not 
time  to  visit  when  1  was  there  in  October.  Then  I  will  take  a  packet 
for  Ostend  or  some  other  continental  port,  so  as  to  travel  through  Hol- 
land and  see  some  of  its  principal  cities,  on  my  way  to  Berlin  or  some 
other  German  university.  There  I  shall  spend  May,  June,  July  and 
August.     I  then  take  up  my  line  of  march  back  again  to  the  Rhine, 


Xlviii.  BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE. 

travel  up  that  river  as  far  as  Basil,  make  a  little  trip  through  Switz- 
erland,  and  return,  by  way  of  Paris,  to  England.  The  last  step  will 
be  to  transport  myself  by  packet  to  New-York,  &c. 

"This  is,  in  all  respects,  the  most  profitable  way  I  can  devise  of 
spending  the  rest  of  my  time  in  Europe.  By  becoming  a  member  of 
a  literary  institution  in  Germany,  I  shall  of  course  get  an  insight  into 
the  character  of  that  important  empire — not  to  mention  that,  although 
the  time  I  spend  there  will  be  extremely  short,  I  do  not  despair  of 
being  able  to  add  theirs  to  the  languages  I  already  know.  Besides, 
theirs  are  the  greatest — indeed,  to  a  person  of  my  age,  the  only  fit 
schools  in  the  branch  of  education  that  I  am  now  particularly  en- 
gaged upon.  The  advantages  and  the  pleasures  of  the  tour  I  intend 
to  make  afterwards  are  sufficiently  obvious  of  themselves. 

"During  my  short  stay  in  Paris  in  the  fall,  I  shall  provide  myself 
with  a  considerable  stock  of  books,  such  as  I  shall  need  and  as  cannot 
be  had  in  the  United  States— principally  Latin  law-treatises.  They 
are  astonishingly  cheap  there ;  and  I  shall  never  again  have  so  good 
an  opportunity  of  employing  a  small  sum  to  a  great  advantage. 

"I  think  it  is  not  flattering  myself,  my  dearest  mother,  to  say  that 
the  coming  to  Europe  has  made  me,  in  every  respect,  a  better  and — 
if  I  ought  to  use  such  a  term  when  speaking  of  one  who  is  so  much 
inclined  to  melancholy — a  happier  man  than  I  was.  My  longings 
will  have  been  gratified ;  my  restless  disposition  will  have  subsided 
into  some  sort  of  quiet— at  least  for  a  considerable  time ;  and  I  have 
seen  so  much  of  the  vanities  of  life,  that  I  really  believe  I  am  begin- 
ning to  be  a  little  philosophical  in  practice,  as  I  have  always  pretend- 
ed, you  know,  to  be  in  speculation.  I  have  rid  myself  of  some  bad 
habits,  and  am  in  a  fair  way  to  overcome  others — particularly  that 
detestable  one  of  swearing,  that  used  to  five  you  so  much  uneasiness. 
Besides  all  this,  I  have  learnt  to  be  an  American^  to  feel  an  interest 
in  my  country,  and  to  be  proud  of  my  privileges  as  one  of  its  citizens. 
My  ambition,  too,  (fine  language  for  a  philosopher)  to  make  some 
figure  in  her  history  has  been  greatly  excited  of  late ;  and  I  shall  sit 
down  to  what  is  to  be  the  business  of  my  life,  if  not  with  the  most 
hearty  «eal  possible,  at  least  with  a  great  deal  of  resignation  and 
good  will.  Still,  (I  must  not  deny  it)  I  feel  my  old  hankering  after 
quiet  and  solitary  studies ;  and  it  will  really  be  painful  to  me  to  bid 
adieu  to  them  forever.  This,  I  shall  only  find  courage  to  do,  by 
plunging  myself  at  once  into  the  midst  of  interests  of  an  entirely  dif- 
ferent kind,  and  endeavoring  to  excite  in  me  that  spirit  of  competition, 
which  does  so  well  to  supply  the  place  of  a  real  taste  for  what  one  is 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE.  xlix. 

engaged  in.  I  believe,  too,  upon  the  whole  that  it  is  my  true  vocation ; 
and  the  novelt}7  of  the  thing  itself  will  serve  to  keep  up  my  ardor, 
for  some  time. 

"I  shall  enter  upon  the  study  of  the  law  and  such  others  as  are 
more  intimately  connected  with  it,  as  soon  as  I  return.  But,  as  it 
will  not  be  necessary  to  go  immediately  into  an  attorney's  office,  I 
shall  have  the  happiness  of  spending  one  more  winter  (it  will  be,  with- 
out doubt  the  last)  upon  John's  Island  and  endeavoring  to  set  every 
thing  to  rights  there.  Alas !  my  dear  mother,  this  brings  your  letter 
to  my  mind,  and  afflicts  me  beyond  measure.  I  shall  be  the  most 
unhappy  of  men,  if  your  subsequent  letters  do  not  console  me  for  the 
last.     I  have  received  my  dear  M's  letter,"  &c. 

The  winter's  course  in  Edinburg  finished,  he  appears  to  have  execu- 
ted all  but  the  German  part  of  the  plan  sketched  above.  From  that 
portion  of  his  design  he  may  have  been  deterred,  as  originally  in 
Paris,  by  the  disturbances  with  which  "Young  Germany"  was  then 
somewhat  rife  in  the  universities.  The  occurrence  of  one  of  these  at 
Gottingen  had  probably  had  its  share  in  deciding  him  to  accompany 
his  friend  Preston  to  Edinburg.  He  may  have  felt,  besides,  that  too 
much  study  is,  like  too  little,  an  unsafe  preparation  for  action ;  that  to 
be  the  recluse  of  colleges,  or  immured  all  the  while  in  vigils  out  of 
them,  was  to  renounce  one  of  the  benefits  of  travel  of  which  his  past 
life  had  given  him  the  greatest  need  ;  that  lucubration  would  ever  be 
in  his  power  at  home ;  but  never  again,  perhaps,  the  opportunity  of 
studying  men  and  things,  institutions  and  arts,  where  these  have  had 
their  most  permanent  glory  and  yet  retain  their  greatest  eminence, 
and  where  the  society  itself,  whatever  its  forms,  is  most  luminous  of 
all  the  knowledge  he  was  seeking.  He  may  have  remembered  the 
words  of  his  favorite  poet: 

"Consider, 
Thy  life  hath  yet  been  private,  most  part  spent 
At  home,  scarce  viewed  the  Galilean  towns 
And  once  a  year  Jerusalem,  few  days' 
Short  sojourn;  and  what  thence  could'st  thou  observe  % 
The  world  thou  hast  not  seen,  much  less  her  glory, 
Empires  and  monarchs  and  their  radiant  courts> 
But  school  of  best  experience,  quickest  insight 
In  all  things  that  to  greatest  actions  lead."* 

At  any  event,  it  is  certain  that  his  remaining  stay  of  near  a  twelve- 
month in  Europe  was  divided,  not  between  academic  and  private  study, 

*  Paradise  Regained,  Book  HL 
VOL.  I. F 


i.  BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE, 

but  between  the  latter  and  the  survey  of  those  things  which  he 
thought  worthiest  to  be  observed.  After  making  the  excursion  in 
Scotland  which  he  had  designed,  he  passed  into  England,  and  visited 
its  most  interesting  points,  ending  with  London,  where  he  remained  a 
part  of  the  summer.  Thence  he  crossed  once  more  to  France,  and 
occupied  the  autumn  in  seeing  that  country,  Belgium,  Holland,  the 
Rhine,  and  the  Alps.  At  the  close  of  the  year,  he  set  out  home ; 
sailed  to  New- York  ;  and  thence  made  his  way  to  Carolina  over  land, 
through  Washington ;  where  he  made  some  stay,  contracted  many 
important  acquaintances,  and  excited  much  attention  by  his  fine  parts 
and  remarkable  attainments.  That  might  well  happen,  indeed,  with 
one  whom  Edinburg,  Paris  and  London  had  admired  and  caressed,  as 
far  as  his  more  earnest  pursuits  allowed  him  to  mix  with  their  intel- 
lectual society.  We  do  not  believe  that  young  travellers  from  this 
country  ever  excited  such  admiration  as  he  and  his  friend  Preston  left 
behind  them  there. 

Thus,  in  the  earlier  part  of  1820,  after  an  absence  of  near  two 
years,  he  re-appeared  in  Charleston,  with  an  education  admirably 
complete,  an  experience  greatly  enlarged,  and  a  reputation  singular  to 
have  been  achieved  by  one  yet  untried  in  active  life.  Few  have  ever 
been  more  fortunate  in  the  personal  or  domestic  impulses  and  aids 
that  directed  them  on  to  knowledge  ;  fewer  still  in  its  public  or  for- 
eign opportunities ;  and  no  men  had  ever  employed  them  all  more 
nobly. 

It  was,  then,  not  as  the  travelled  exquisite,  but  as  the  returning 
scholar, — accomplished  in  the  highest  arts,  as  the  able  lawyer  and 
statesman  already  largely  formed,  that  he  came  from  abroad.  There, 
he  had  made  no  step  but  towards  some  well-chosen  addition  to  his 
knowledge,  the  command  of  some  fresh  professional  attainment,  or  of 
those  purer  and  more  vigorous  parts  of  absolute  learning  and  taste 
which  he  sought,  not  merely  as  accomplishments,  but  as  graces 
scarcely  less  necessary  than  strength  itself  to  that  high  career  which 
he  was  preparing  himself  to  tread.  He  returned  to  Charleston  some- 
what as  Milo  the  wrestler  might  have  done  to  the  public  games  of 
Italy  from  the  palaestra  of  Greece — not  an  effeminate  wanderer,  un- 
nerved by  foreign  delights;  but  an  athlete  of  skill  almost  as  formi- 
dable as  his  strength  was  terrible. 

His  arrival  was  of  course  met  with  all  that  expectation  of  his 
friends  and  of  the  public  which  his  reputed  genius  and  his  known 
habits  abroad  were  fit  to  excite.  Each  gayer  traveller,  too,  that 
came  or  wrote  home,  had  been  constantly  marvelling  at  the  progress 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE.  Hi 

of  his  mind  and  announcing  some  acquirement  mastered,  some  fresh 
one  set  about,  the  ardour  and  the  skill  with  which  his  wide  studies 
were  pushed.  It  was  felt,  then,  on  all  sides,  that  here  was  a  man  of 
rare  natural  powers  so  perfected  by  the  severest  discipline  and  ani- 
mated with  such  vigorous  purposes,  as  made  certain  his  achievement 
of  great  things. 

Instead,  however,  of  pausing  to  enjoy,  in  the  elegant  circles  of  a 
city  whose  suffrage  was  so  dear  to  him,  the  foretaste  of  that  broader 
reputation  which  he  must  now  have  felt  himself  capable  of  grasping, 
he  flung  himself  at  once  upon  the  filial  duties  that  stood  in  his  heart 
foremost  of  all  things :  he  applied  himself  to  retrieving  his  mother's 
affairs,  suffering  from  the  want  of  a  more  active  management,  than  a 
lady,  even  the  most  efficient,  can  give  to  the  operations  of  an  agri- 
cultural property.  With  these  cares,  he  immediately  joined  the 
renewal  of  his  common  law  studies :  for  still,  however  amply  quali- 
fied for  the  bar,  he  was  in  no  haste  to  engage  in  practice,  and  chose 
to  continue  his  legal  reading,  as  long  as  he  found  it  necessary  to 
attend  in  person  to  the  government  of  the  patrimonial  estate  on  John's 
Island ;  where  (as  he  had  so  fondly  promised  himself  in  his  letter 
from  Edinburg)  he  now  took  up  his  abode  with  his  mother  and  younger 
sister,  as  a  planter  for  two  years. 

There,  his  personal  worth,  his  talents  felt  in  every  thing,  and  the 
hereditary  respect  which  his  family  enjoyed,  obtained  for  him  at  the 
elections  of  that  fall,  the  offer  of  a  seat,  in  the  State  Legislature,  from 
his  parish.*  His  agricultural  duties  did  not  forbid  the  annual  absence 
of  a  winter  month :  the  charge  itself  placed  him  at  once  (to  use  a 
military  phrase)  in  position  for  his  destined  course  of  life ;  the  obtain- 
ing it  implied  no  necessity  of  submitting  to  the  annoyances  of  a 
canvass;  and  feelings  on  his  own  part  answering  to  those  of  the 
constituency  claimed  his  acquiescence  in  their  wishes ;  so  that  he 
acceded,  and  was  accordingly  returned  to  the  Lower  House  of  the 
General  Assembly  of  South-Carolina,  for  its  biennial  term,  from  1820 
to  1822. 

We  need  scarcely  say  that  his  was  not,  upon  a  theatre  like  that  in 
which  he  now  assumed  his  part,  the  vulgar  mistake  of  that  sort  of 
genius  which — destitute  of  the  great  distinguishing  gift  of  genius, 

*  That  of  John's  Island  and  Wadmalaw.  These  ancient  constituencies  of 
lower  Carolina,  still  formed  chiefly  of  a  population  of  planters,  retain  their  old 
Episcopal  designation  of  parishes.  Their  white  population  is  small ;  their  wealth 
considerable.  They  are  looked  on  as  rotten  boroughs,  by  the  political  arithmeti- 
cians. 


1U.  BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE. 

the  instinct  and  the  power  of  labour,  that  makes  all  other  gifts  tell — 
thinks  that  greatness  has  little  else  to  do  but  to  shine  ;  and  that  to  be 
soberly  and  even  humbly  useful  in  the  entire  body  of  public  affairs  is 
quite  below  its  care  and  out  of  its  vocation.  Graced  as  he  already 
was  with  all  the  power  to  please  or  to  command  in  speech  or  by  know- 
ledge, he  did  not  for  one  instant  fancy  that  it  was  the  first  business  of 
his  future  greatness  to  pour  out  the  useless  flood  of  an  eloquence  as- 
yet  unacquainted  with  the  duties  before  it,  and  to  be  little  better  than 
a  cascade  of  words,  that  shall  flash  idly  to  the  sun,  in  a  holiday 
display,  and  leave  to  streams  less  picturesque  the  care  to  grind  the 
corn  of  public  business.  To  the  serious  work  of  legislation  or  of 
that  personal  eminence  which  is  to  be  won  in  it,  eloquence  can  be 
only  occasionally  instrumental.  Legare  began  not,  therefore,  where 
others,  considered  for  a  while  brilliant,  not  only  begin,  but  end — by 
setting  forward,  per  sallum,  on  the  single  foot  of  oratory,  and  holding 
up  that  other  leg  of  silent  application  to  details,  on  which  a  man 
must  jointly  go,  if  he  would  go  far.  In  a  word,  he  gave  himself, 
first  of  all,  to  committee-work,  to  the  preparation  of  business,  to  the 
mastering  and  shaping  of  particulars  towards  legislation — content  to 
be  felt  in  these,  to  become  by  practice  a  capable  man,  to  be  known 
among  his  associates  and  competitors  as  a  useful  man,  before  he  set 
up  to  be  a  great  one.  Yet  when,  in  matters  to  which  experience  had 
made  him  competent,  the  occasion  offered  itself  of  employing  the 
powers  which  he  had  mastered,  he  of  course  did  not  shun  it :  so  that, 
upon  this  liberal  field,  where  intellectual  resources  could  take  their 
full  scope,  he  early  placed  himself  in  the  highest  rank  which  one  not 
a  veteran  in  deliberative  bodies,  unskilled  in  their  legitimate  manage- 
ment, and  utterly  impatient  of  their  mere  tactics,  can  attain. 

About  the  close  of  his  term  as  the  representative  of  this  rural  con- 
stituency,— that  is  to  say  towards  the  end  of  the  year  1822 — he 
ceased  to  be  an  inhabitant  of  John's  Island.  His  professional  prepa- 
ration— already  lengthened  to  a  period  of  five  years, — had  become 
complete  enough  to  satisfy  him :  to  pursue  the  practice  of  the  law,  it 
was  necessary  that  he  should  reside  in  Charleston :  he  could  neither 
reconcile  himself  to  a  regular  separation  from  his  mother  nor  to  the 
seeing  her  resume  the  difficult  management  of  their  common  property : 
and  a  favorable  opportunity  presenting  itself  of  disposing  of  their 
plantation  on  the  Island,  it  was  seized ;  and  the  family  once  more 
took  up  its  old  abode  with  him  in  Chaileston,  where,  admitted  now 
to  the  bar,  he  set  to  work  as  an  advocate. 


^ 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE.  Hii. 

Here,  in  whatever  of  opportunity  can  well  come  to  a  junior  lawyer 
at  his  mere  outset,  he  at  once  took,  by  the  richness  and  force  of  his 
oratorical  powers,  his  ample  command  of  the  theoretic  and  historical 
parts  of  his  profession,  and  the  variety  and  splendor  of  his  general 
attainments,  an  easy  superiority  over  all  rivalry  of  the  young-,  and  a 
high  place  in  everything  but  what  practice  alone  can  give,  among  a 
bar  numbering  the  strong  veteran  names  of  Petigru,  King,  Drayton, 
Hayne  and  Grimke. 

In  short,  the  very  brilliancy  with  which  our  young  jurist  burst  out 
from  the  first  was,  amidst  the  general  suffrage  of  the  better  sort,  abun- 
dantly attended  with  what  he  bore  about  him  nothing  else  to  provoke — 
that  vulgar  malignity  of  unworthy  competitors,  who,  spiteful  and  many 
as  they  are  puny,  muster,  like  Lilliputians,  against  a  Gulliver  landed 
on  their  shores  ;  dread  in  him  the  subverter  of  their  pigmy  empire ; 
and  rest  not,  intermit  not  their  small  annoyance,  until  they  expel  him 
from  their  island.  'Tis  but  the  old  history  of  bright  parts :  it  was 
Sheridan's,  before  it  was  Legare's. 

Guileless  in  his  entire  character,  simple  but  reserved  in  his  manners, 
secluded  by  his  tastes  ;  destitute — even  if  he  had  not  scorned  them — 
of  the  arts  of  mere  popularity,  and  without  an  idea  of  rising  except 
by  absolute  merit,  he  opposed  to  this  sort  of  cabal  nothing  but  that 
which,  if  it  vanquishes  it  at  last,  must  get  the  better  of  it  slowly — a 
calm  constancy,  a  severe  application  to  whatever  business  came,  a 
steady  attention  to  the  completion  of  his  technical  knowledge.  A 
very  remarkable  degree  of  reputation,  he  had  at  once  created :  but 
employment,  which  nothing  but  time  can  bring  about  at  a  bar  thronged 
with  competitors  and  in  the  possession  of  able  and  established  plead- 
ers such  as  we  have  mentioned,  came  slowly  and  (as  we  have  said) 
with  even  serious  impediments  from  those  qualities  as  a  speaker  and 
a  scholar,  of  which  the  very  lustre  often  serves,  without  the  aid  of 
envy,  to  spread  a  common  impression  that  he  who  shines  in  such 
bright  things  must  be  too  fine  and  too  lofty  ever  to  make  a  skilful, 
attorney.  That  sagacious  thing,  established  opinion — sister  to  an- 
other of  equal  wit  and  liberality,  which  calls  itself  march  of  mind — 
has,  in  a  word,  fixed  its  standard  of  what  the  black-letter  lawyer  shall 
be  permitted  to  know ;  insists  upon  punishing  him  who  visibly  exceeds 
it ;  and  yields  not  its  intelligent  repugnance,  except  most  slowly  to 
the  compulsion  of  a  powerful  will  and  high  parts. 

Yet  the  leading  legal  examples  before  the  eyes  of  the  crowd  thus 
shutting  or  made  to  shut  them  to  the  professional  merits  of  Legare, 
were  sueh  as  might  have  taught  them  a  better  judgment.     Not  only 


Hv.  BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE. 

was  his  singular  ability  recognized,  among  his  compeers  of  the  bar, 
by  each  much  in  the  proportion  as  he  had  ability  himself,  but  it  should 
have  been  seen  that  the  juridical  eminence  of  the  chief  of  them  was 
almost  precisely  in  the  rate  of  his  elegant  attainments. 

It  will  have  been  seen  that,  besides  his  admirable  training  in  all  the 
higher  auxiliar  arts  and  studies,  Legare  had  not  chosen  to  appear  in 
the  tribunals  until  he  had  devoted — without  reckoning  his  severity  of 
application — some  two  or  three  or  four  times  the  usual  space  to  direct 
preparation,  aided  by  advantages  of  instruction  as  unusual.  Sad 
must  it  be  to  have  toiled,  as  he  had  done,  perfectly  to  qualify  one's-self, 
and  then  to  find  that  the  very  fact  of  that  toil  and  its  noble  but  pain- 
ful fruits  creates  a  prejudice  against  one  and  condemns  him  to  a  tar- 
dier success.  To  him  fervid  with  every  lofty  aspiration,  enamoured 
of  genuine  greatness  and  filled  not  only  with  the  original  powers  but 
the  attainments  that  claim  it  as  their  due,  there  cannot  well,  we 
imagine,  be  any  keener  pang  than  to  be  forced  to  feel  that,  for  him 
who  has  need  of  his  times,  nature  has  no  more  unhappy  gift  than 
that  of  genius,  and  art  no  greater  curse  than  an  education  that  places 
him  beyond  the  sympathies  and  the  ideas  of  the  country  in  which  he 
is  to  act.  This  sad  disadvantage  of  an  entire  over-education  came, 
we  know,  to  be  one  of  Legare's  most  gloomy  thoughts,  in  those  pe- 
riods of  depression  to  which  he  was  constitutionally  subject.  He 
saw  that  if,  with  nothing  but  his  native  strength,  he  had  cast  himself 
into  the  public  arena,  the  powers  he  had  shown  would  have  been 
hailed  with  a  much  greater  favour :  that  the  crowd  viewed  him  as  it 
does  some  perfect  work  of  the  chisel,  of  which  the  severe  and  noble 
beauties  are  foreign  to  all  its  notions :  that  it  is  dangerous  to  be  too 
superior,  too  unlike,  to  the  common-place  of  men  :  that  he  had  liberal- 
ized and  elevated  himself  into  what  those,  of  whom  he  had  the 
greatest  need,  rather  wondered  at  than  enjoyed :  that  in  his  lofty  self- 
formation,  he  had  too  much  dissociated  himself  from  the  public  about 
him,  risen  too  high  above  its  ignorance,  broken  too  much  from  its 
false  and  narrow  ideas :  that,  in  fine,  it  is  happier  and  more  profitable 
to  be  of  a  commoner  cast,  to  share  in  some  of  the  vulgar  conceptions; 
for  it  is  to  a  great  extent  upon  these,  and  even  with  them  that  one 
must  work ;  and  since  one  must  either  have  or  feign  them,  the  former 
is  the  better,  as  well  as  the  easier.  Indeed,  the  poor  fellow  had,  rather 
unadvisedly,  heaped  up,  in  the  treasury  of  his  mind,  ingots  of  rubies 
and  diamonds  and  thousand-pound  Bank  of  England  notes ;  but  not 
half-pence  and  farthings  and  small  change  for  the  commerce  of  the 
crowd  and  to  go  to  market  with.     These  he  had  yet  to  acquire. 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE.  lv. 

His  nature  was,  however,  too  firm  as  well  as  wise,  to  yield  either 
to  any  alienation  from  his  country  or  from  his  studies.  Momentary 
fits  of  dejection  might  shake  him :  but  his  mind  soon  recovered  its 
calm  serenity,  its  confidence  in  his  ultimate  triumph  over  inferior 
things  and  momentary  misconceptions.  Perhaps  the  war  of  the  un- 
worthy upon  him  which  we  have  glanced  at  only  stimulated  him  to 
that  study  of  which  it  made  a  reproach  :  the  blockhead  hostility  was 
just  fit  to  rouse  him  to  the  stronger  vindication  of  learning  and  him- 
self. He  strove  to  make  himself  more  practical  and  to  attain  all 
the  necessary  arts  of  his  profession,  that  are  worthy  of  it.  Its  greater 
arms,  its  ordnance  (so  to  speak)  he  knew  how  to  wield  ;  the  foin  and 
fence  of  its  lighter  weapons,  he  made  haste  to  learn,  as  it  can  only  be 
learnt,  in  encounter.  Grave,  sincere,  with  an  unconquerable  love  of 
rectitude,  he  depended  on  strength  of  reason  and  learning  to  convince, 
eloquence  to  persuade,  and  averse  to  the  tricks  by  which  a  pannel  is 
to  be  mis-led,  was  always  fitter  to  plead  before  higher  tribunals,  unless 
in  difficult  cases,  where  every  thing  was  to  be  decided  by  strict  inves- 
tigation, or  where  the  passions  were  to  be  moved. 

In  this  earlier  part  of  his  practice,  while  business,  deterred  by  the 
suspicion  of  too  much  scholarship,  came  thin  and  sometimes  rather 
as  a  benevolence,  we  remember  with  amusement  the  account  which 
he  gave  us  of  the  progress  of  that  professional  success,  which  none 
that  knew  him  well  ever  doubted.  "Sir,"  said  he,  "do  you  ask  how 
I  get  along  %  Do  you  enquire  what  my  trade  brings  me  in  ?  1  will 
tell  you.  I  have  a  variety  of  cases,  and,  by  the  bounty  of  Providence, 
sometimes  get  a  fee :  but  in  general,  sir,  I  practice  upon  the  old  Ro- 
man plan ;  and,  like  Cicero's,  my  clients  pay  me  what  they  like — 
that  is,  often,  nothing  at  all." 

Still,  his  general  reputation  being  out  of  all  proportion  to  its  legal 
rewards,  he  was,  during  the  first  two  years  of  his  resumed  residence 
in  Charleston,  chosen  without  solicitation,  one  of  that  city's  represen- 
tatives in  the  State  Legislature.  He  accordingly  re-appeared  in  that 
body  in  November,  1824,  not  again  to  quit  it  until,  by  its  election,  in 
1830,  he  assumed  the  post  of  Attorney  General  of  his  State. 

It  was  the  first  rise  of  that  agitation,  almost  ever  since  tormenting 
his  State  and  the  Union,  which  Legare  met,  at  his  return  to  the 
Legislature  in  1824.  The  share  which  he  bore  in  it,  honorable  as  it 
was  to  his  talents  and  his  intentions,  was  rather  that  of  the  able 
speaker  than  of  the  busy  actor.  As  to  the  main  events,  however, 
we  need  no  more  than  glance  at  how  the  fight  began,  in  1824,  with 
the   famous   Anti-Bank,  Anti-Internal-Improvement  and  Anti-TarifF 


lVL  BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE. 

Resolutions  of  Judge  William  Smith,  the  old  leader  of  the  Crawford 
party  of  South-Carolina,  and  of  course  the  stiff  State-Rights  oppo- 
nent of  Mr.  Calhoun,  at  whom  was  aimed  this  whole  original  move- 
ment. For  the  time,  it  was  completely  successful,  and  gave  Judge 
Smith  the  party  predominance  of  the  State.  That  being  his  chief 
practical  aim,  the  leader  paused  there ;  for,  beyond  the  incidental 
effect  of  carrying  back  into  popularity  and  restoring  him  to  a  seat  in 
the  Senate  of  the  United  States,  he  had  not  much  idea  of  being  logi- 
cal, and  of  pushing  to  their  legitimate  consequences  his  own  legislative 
declarations.  He  would,  in  a  word,  have  had  the  matter  go  no  far- 
ther ;  but  he  had  set  a  stone  rolling  which  was  fated  to  crush  him. 

What  followed,  beyond  these  earlier  marches  and  countermarches, 
we  need  not  tell.  In  the  earlier  contest,  Mr.  Legare  had,  in  obedience 
to  that  general  theory  of  the  distributive  powers  of  the  several  parts 
of  this  federative  system  which  he  through  life  retained,  taken 
part  with  Judge  Smith;  but  without  any  purpose  of  an  ultimate 
remedy,  such  as  Mr.  Calhoun  afterwards  contrived  to  deduce  from  his 
adversary's  own  principles.  Indeed,  conservative  in  all  his  ideas  of  go- 
vernment, Legare  no  sooner  saw  the  conclusions  to  which  Dr.  Cooper 
and  others  were  bent  on  driving  the  movement  in  which  he  himself 
had  originally  taken  part,  than  he  recoiled  from  that  urgent  and  sharp 
form  of  civil  controversy,  which  left,  he  thought, nothing  to  the  general 
government  but  an  alternative  fatal  to  either  its  own  or  state  author- 
ity— the  alternative,  or  rather  the  dilemma,  of  subjugating  or  of  being 
subjugated  He  had,  in  a  word,  considered  not  only  warrantable,  but 
highly  proper,  an  opposition  of  quite  a  strong  character  to  the  gov- 
ernmental usurpations  (as  he  thought  them)  against  which  were 
levelled  the  South-Carolina  resolutions  of  1824-5;  but  a  direct  con- 
flict of  state  and  federal  authorities  he  looked  on  as  incapable  of  being 
reduced  into  a  state  remedy,  a  constitutional,  and  least  of  all  a  peace- 
ful resort.  He  eloquently  and  ably  resisted,  therefore,  the  movement 
of  Nullification,  as  soon  as  it  began  to  declare  the  purpose  of  resis- 
tance. The  evil  itself  complained  of,  he  thought  was,  (as  all  have 
since — except,  perhaps,  Mr.  McDuffle — been  brought  to  perceive) 
greatly  exaggerated.  At  worst,  he  thought  it  must  speedily  yield  to 
what  he  considered  the  great  curative  powers  of  our  system,  a  little 
time  and  much  discussion.  Reasonable  as  all  these  opinions  now 
appear,  they  were  nevertheless,  for  the  time,  not  those  which  long 
prevailed ;  and  the  majority  with  which  he  at  first  voted  them,  in 
1828,  passed  within  a  few  years  after,  into  a  minority. 
Within  the  period,  however,  of  Legare's  legislative  career  in  his 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE,  lviL 

o\vn  state,  a  literary  episode  intervened — that  of  his  collaboration  in 
an  important  politico-literary  journal  of  the  South. 

As  we  have  said,  his  general  political  theory  was  that  of  the  South, 
State  Rights  and  anti-consolidation;  so  that  when,  at  the  close  of 
1827,  the  idea  of  a  literary  organ  of  these  opinions  was  started,  under 
the  form  of  a  Southern  Review,  he  lent  it  at  once  the  zealous  aid  of 
his  high  scholarship  and  abilities  ;  contributing  to  it,  indeed,  a  large 
portion  of  the  masterly  articles  which  adorned  it,  and  which  won  it, 
while  it  continued  to  exist,  a  more  brilliant  reputation  than  any  like 
publication  ever  obtained  in  this  country.  On  more  than  one  occasion, 
nearly  half  the  papers  of  the  Review  were  of  his  composition ;  and 
his,  (let  it  be  recollected)  was  none  of  that  shallow  facility,  born  for 
the  encouragement  of  the  rag  and  paper  trade,  which  writes  fast  in 
proportion  as  ill,  and  which  need  never  stop,  simply  because  it  had 
no  occasion  to  have  begun. 

Other  powerful  hands,  however,  upheld  with  kirn  the  honors  of  the 
Review — the  various,  the  astute,  the  sententious  Cooper,  master  of 
almost  every  part  of  science,  of  a  great  amount  of  literature,  and 
giving  life  and  force  to  every  thing  he  touched,  by  the  epigrammatic 
conciseness  and  liveliness  of  his  style  ;  the  ingenious  and  able  Elliott 
the  elder  ;  the  curious  and  elegant  skill  of  the  accomplished  and 
lamented  Nott  in  literary  antiquities  and  history;  these,  with  the 
occasional  efforts  of  the  vehement  McDuffie,  of  the  rare  legal  ability 
and  wit  of  Petigru,  the  mathematical  analysis  of  Wallace,  the  heavy 
scholarship  of  Henry,  with  now  and  then  a  paper  from  more  youthful 
or  less  marked  contributors,  whom  we  need  not  name,  made  up  togeth- 
er an  array  of  talent  such  as  the  South  has  never,  on  any  other  occa- 
sion, thrown  upon  any  literary  undertaking-.  Able  and  elegant  writers, 
however,  as  those  whom  we  have  named  were  known  to  be,  it  was 
continually  felt  that  the  contributions  of  Mr.  Legare  were,  beyond  all 
competition,  the  most  brilliant  that  graced  the  work. 

Among  his  papers  in  this  periodical,  those  on  classical  subjects 
were  marked  with  a  richness  and  breadth  of  scholarship,  which  cer- 
tainly no  performances  of  their  sort  in  this  country  have  at  all  equalled. 
His  defence  of  ancient  learning  against  one  of  those  (Mr>  Thomas 
Grimke)  who  urged  its  banishment  from  education  and  the  substitu- 
tion of  a  less  Pagan  erudition  in  its  place,  was  the  first  of  these,  and 
argued  with  as  much  dialectic  force  as  classic  enthusiasm.  Papers 
equally  elegant  and  erudite  on  Dunlop's  "History  of  Roman  Litera- 
ture," on  Featherstonhaugh's  translation  of  Cicero  "De  Republica," 
on  "the  Public  Economy  of  Athens,"  followed  •  and  afterwards  found 
vol,  i. — G 


Ivili.  BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE. 

their  learned  and  able  sequel  in  papers  on  cognate  subjects  in  the 
"New-York  Review."  With  these  in  the  Southern  Review  were  a 
survey  of  Kent's  "Commentaries,"  a  critique  of  Hoffman's  "Outlines 
of  Legal  Study,"  "Bentham  and  the  Utilitarians/'  "Codification,"  "the 
Works  of  the  great  Chancellor  D'Aguesseau,"  and  a  whole  body  of 
admirable  articles  in  General  Literature,  the  chief  of  which  find  their 
place  in  the  present  collection. 

Agreeable  as  were  to  him  these  excitations  of  his  taste  and  learning, 
he  had  felt,  when  zeal  to  uphold  the  honor  of  his  State  in  this  literary 
enterprise  drew  him  to  lend  it  his  abilities,  that  these  were,  as  to  the 
severer  purposes  of  life  such  as  he  had  destined  himself  to,  mere 
wanderings  in  the  maze  of  fancy ;  that  they  occupied  him  too  much, 
and  must  detain  him  too  long.  His  growing  legal  reputation,  and 
finally  his  advancement  to  the  post  of  Attorney  General  of  his  State 
compelled  him  to  cease  his  contributions.  Even  with  them,  the  enter- 
prize — managed  by  literary  men  only,  as  to  its  pecuniary  and  admin- 
istrative part-^had  barely  been  able  to  live ;  and  without  them,  it 
almost  at  once  ceased  to  exist,  though  in  the  hands  of — one  destined 
soon  to  rise  into  a  very  superior  person — 'the  younger  Stephen  Elliott, 
now  the  learned  and  excellent  Bishop  of  Georgia, 

The  post  to  which  we  have  just  said  that  Legare  was  now,  in  1830, 
advanced,  was  not  only  an  eminent  one  for  a  lawyer  so  young,  but 
made  still  more  honorable  by  the  fact  that  it  was  conferred  upon  him  by 
a  legislative  body  containing  a  majority  of  the  excited  political  party 
which  he  opposed ;  and  that  it  was  given  almost  without  a  solicita- 
tion :  a  rare  instance  of  the  triumph  of  personal  merit  over  party 
animosities.  These,  however,  the  candour,  the  amenity,  the  Tightness 
of  his  own  temper  as  a  public  man  had  scarcely  permitted  him  to 
incur,  among  adversaries  a  great  part  of  whom  personally  loved  him, 
looked  on  him  as  one  of  the  chief  ornaments  of  the  State,  and  knew 
that  while  there  was  nothing  in  her  gift  beyond  his  abilities,  there 
was  equally  no  employment  in  which  all  men  themselves  meaning 
well  for  the  public  service  might  not  trust  him,  no  matter  with  what 
temporary  political  faith  connected.  He  at  once  justified  this  honor- 
able confidence.  The  office  presented  him  a  field  of  distinction  such 
as  could  no  longer  be  disputed  ;  and  he  at  once  displayed  in  it  powers 
that  placed  him  in  the  highest  rank  of  those  who  had  heretofore 
graced  it,* 

*  In  this  and  in  the  details  that  follow,  as  to  the  origin  of  his  Belgian  mission, 
we  have  preferred  to  adopt  largely  the  testimony  of  Mr.  Preston,  who  speaks  of  a 
personal  knowledge  not  possessed  by  us. 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE.  Ux. 

"While  he  held  it,  he  was  carried,  in  the  course  of  his  profession, 
to  argue  a  case  of  much  expectation,  at  the  bar  of  the  Supreme  Court, 
in  Washington.  His  argument  obtained  the  most  flattering  com- 
mendation from  the  members  of  that  high  court,  and  especially  from 
that  illustrious  sage,  who  yet  shed  his  glory  upon  it,  and  never  spoke 
but  from  the  impulses  of  a  heart  warmed  only  by  what  was  great 
and  good,  and  the  dictates  of  a  judgment  which  was  never  clouded. 
Such  was  the  extraordinary  success  of  the  effort  that  it  became  the 
subject  of  conversation  in  the  circles  of  Washington,  and  procured 
for  him  the  most  flattering  attentions  from  Mr.  Livingston,  then  Secre- 
tary of  State,  who  had  been  struck  with  the  general  merits  of  the  argu- 
ment, as  detailed  to  him  by  a  member  of  the  court,  but  was  more 
interested  by  the  unusual  display  of  civil  law  erudition,  being  a  branch 
of  learning  to  which  he  himself  was  much  devoted,  and  in  which  he 
had  made  great  proficiency.  This  accidental  contact,  by  congeniality 
of  tastes,  habits  of  thought  and  intellectual  occupations,  rapidly 
ripened  into  an  intimacy,  which  exercised  a  decided  influence  upon 
the  subsequent  course  of  life  and  purposes  of  Mr.  Legare. 

"The  profession  of  law  had,  about  this  time,  partly  from  the 
political  condition  of  the  country,  and  partly  from  his  brilliant  success 
in  it,  begun  to  rise  in  his  mind  from  a  secondary  to  a  primary  object ; 
and  his  growing  admiration  of  the  civil  law  was  augmented  by  each 
successive  advance  of  knowledge,  and  greatly  stimulated  by  the 
exhortations  of  Mr.  Livingston,  that  he  should  prosecute  the  study  of 
it  for  great  national  purposes. 

"Mr.  Livingston  thought,  and  subsequent  reflection  and  study 
brought  Mr.  Legare  to  the  same  conclusion,  that  it  was  practicable 
and  desirable  to  infuse  a  larger  portion  of  the  spirit  and  philosophy  of 
the  civil  law,  and  even  of  its  forms  and  process,  into  our  system  of 
jurisprudence.  The  peculiar  condition  of  our  country,  in  which  so 
much  is  new,  and  such  essential  modifications  of  pre-existing  systems 
necessary,  seemed  to  be  adapted  to  the  introduction  of  an  eclectic 
system  of  municipal  law.  Our  political  institutions,  our  republican 
habits,  and  even  our  physical  condition,  have  forced  upon  us  great 
changes  in  the  system  of  common  law,  and  seem  to  open  the  way 
for  further  alterations,  with  less  difficulty  and  danger  than  would 
attend  such  an  attempt  in  England.  There,  the  noble  and  venerable 
system  exists;  as  a  whole,  interfused  into  the  universal  fabric  of  socie- 
ty, compacted  and  connected  with  the  whole  moral  mass,  with  so  en- 
tire a  consubstantiation,  that  the  attempt  to  derange  it,  or  essentially 


I*.  BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE. 

to  modify  it,  would  be  characterized  by  rashness,  and  fraught  with 
danger. 

"And,  indeed,  when  we  consider  the  common  law  in  its  minute 
adjustments  and  comprehensive  outlines,  how  scrupulous  of  right, 
and  how  instinct  with  liberty — how  elastic  and  capacious  to  expand 
itself  over  the  complicated  transactions  of  the  highest  civilization, 
yet  strong  and  rigid  to  bend  down  within  its  oibit  the  most  audacious 
power ;  when  we  consider  all  the  miracles  that  have  been  wrought  by 
its  spirit,  from  Alfred  to  Victoria,  we  cannot  but  regard  it  with  love 
and  veneration. 

"It  is  true  also,  of  the  other  system,  that  it  is  a  stupendous  embo- 
diment of  the  wisdom  of  ages,  arranged  in  an  admirable  method, 
and  pervaded  throughout  by  a  philosophical  spirit,  which  combines 
all  its  parts,  and  harmonizes  all  its  dependencies  into  a  beautiful  iden- 
tity. As  each  is  the  result  of  the  thought  and  experience  of  the 
wise  of  many  ages — the  difference  between  them,  has,  perhaps,  arisen 
from  the  different  manner  in  which  the  wisdom  of  those  who  made 
them  has  been  brought  into  action.  The  one  has  been  the  result  of 
philosophical  speculation  and  closest  study  of  what  is  right  and  fit : 
the  other  is  the  successive  judgments  of  equally  wise  men,  pro- 
nounced upon  real  cases,  under  public  responsibility,  after  discussion, 
stimulated  by  private  reward  and  the  ambition  of  public  applause. 
Whatever  advantages  our  system  might  be  supposed  to  possess  in 
the  aggregrate,  Mr.  Legare  determined  upon  a  diligent  and  extended 
prosecution  of  the  study  of  the  civil  law,  that  he  might  distinctly 
understand  what,  if  any  portion  could  be  advantageously  adopted — 
and  he  came  to  the  conclusion,  after  several  years  of  severe  applica- 
tion, that  much  might  be  effected. 

There  were  few  among  us  fitter  than  Mr.  Livingston  to  estimate 
the  admirable  studies  of  Legare  towards  this  lofty  conception  of  his ; 
and,  struck  with  the  greatness  of  the  idea  and  the  singular  capacity 
of  the  man  to  execute  it,  he  devised  and  at  once  offered  the  means : — 
a  diplomatic  mission  which  should  place  him,  for  some  years,  in  the 
very  centre  of  this  great  department  of  legal  science :  he  tendered 
him  the  station  of  American  Charge  d' Affaires,  at  the  minor  but 
most  agreeable  court  of  Brussels.  The  gloomy  aspect  of  affairs  in 
his  own  State — where  now  (in  1832)  was  manifestly  approaching 
one  of  those  civil  contests  in  which  no  party  or  both  parties  must  be 
greatly  in  fault,  and  the  good  and  wise  scarcely  know  what  views  to 
form — concurred  with  the  peculiar  labor  which  he  proposed  to  him- 
self; and  he  accepted  the  station, 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE.  lxi. 

Thither,  then,  he  at  once  repaired,  as  to  a  charge  the  easy  duties 
of  which  replaced  him  amid  the  delights  of  European  scholarship, 
with  a  dignity  that  gave  him  access  everywhere,  and  with  leisure  to 
turn  that  access  to  account.  Already  intimately  versed  in  the  noble 
study  of  National  Law  ;  rich  in  the  histoiic  lore  which  is  its  basis 
and  commanding  nearly  all  the  diplomatic  tongues  of  Europe,  he 
needed  nothing,  except  some  little  practice  in  the  routine  and  ceremo- 
nial of  his  place,  to  be  the  most  accomplished  Minister  that  we  have 
ever  sent  abroad — a  praise  by  the  by,  which  is  rapidly  growing  to  be 
an  exceedingly  inconsiderable  one.  His  public  functions  sat  lightly 
on  him  at  a  Court  with  which  our  National  relations  are  usually 
commercial  rather  than  political.  Voluntarily,  he  is  known  to  have 
addressed  to  his  government  a  very  masterly  series  (part  of  which  is 
given  in  this  collection)  of  regular  reports  embracing  a  continual 
survey  of  all  the  main  movements  of  European  policy.  Placed, 
however,  with  a  large  command  of  his  time,  in  the  midst  of  a  coun- 
try where  learning  has  always  flourished,  where  great  and  ancient 
libraries  have  been  accumulated ;  Paris  within  easy  reach,  Gottingen 
at  hand,  Berlin  not  far  off,  and  the  learned  bodies  of  Northern  Ger- 
many (the  most  erudite  country  in  the  world)  ready  to  lend  him  their 
vast  stores,  he  flung  himself  afresh  into  study,  with  all  the  ardor  of 
a  scholar  whom  no  amount  of  toil  could  tame,  and  with  a  genius 
strong  enough  to  take  any  load  of  knowledge  on  its  back  and  walk 
lightly  under  it.  Heretofore  he  had  chiefly  cultivated,  as  to  literature 
that  of  the  classic  tongues  and  of  the  languages  of  Southern  Eu- 
rope— dialects  of  which  the  sweetness  and  their  wealth  in  elegant 
letters  drew  his  preference:  now,  however,  he  fell  upon  German, 
with  which  his  acquaintance  was  slight — determined  to  master  that 
empire  of  learning  which  its  writers  may  be  said  to  form  of  them- 
selves. This,  with  the  acquisition  of  Low  Dutch  and  (to  round  off 
his  Greek,)  Romaic,  made  up  the  main  philologic  occupations  of  his 
second  stay  abroad,  from  which  he  returned  in  especial  a  thorough 
German  scholar.  That  other  part  of  his  residence,  which  he  dedi- 
cated, (as  he  had  designed,)  to  a  fresh  course  of  Ancient  Jurispru- 
dence and  of  Roman  and  Civil  law,  was  given  to  the  science  under 
perhaps  the  greatest  ornament  it  has  ever  possessed — the  illustrious 
Savigny — of  whose  extraordinary  learning  and  abilities  he  has  often 
told  us  with  such  delight,  that,  amid  his  enthusiasm,  he  would  even 
forget  how  little  we  were  in  a  condition  to  take  lessons  of  the  great 
master,  and  would  lament  that  we  had  not  yet  heard  his  lectures." 
Of  the  portion  of  his  life  formed  by  this  Belgian  residence,  the 


lxii.  BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE. 

papers  now  published  (his  journals,  letters,  and  a  part  of  his  des- 
patches) afford  an  unstudied  autobiography,  highly  agreeable  and 
striking,  which  flings  us,  with  all  the  distinctness  of  a  mirror,  the 
moral  and  intellectual  lineament,  the  feelings,  the  avocations,  the  pur- 
poses, the  personal  intercourses,  of  which  our  imperfect  account  makes 
but  the  shadow.  These  unguarded  personal  records  are  but  little 
more  than  enough  to  teach  one  to  lament  that  so  small  a  proportion 
of  his  communications  with  his  friends  has  yet  been  yielded  up  to 
the  public  curiosity.  At  least  however,  exhibiting  the  faithful  pic- 
ture of  four  years  of  his  life,  they  will  serve  to  show  that  our  sketch 
of  the  rest  is  a  truthful  conception,  however  inadequate  the  delinea- 
tion. His  shining  and  his  attractive  qualities  ;  the  vigor  of  his  parts 
and  the  extent  of  his  learning ;  the  masculine  purposes  of  his  mind, 
the  simplicity  and  lovingness  of  heart;  his  lofty  power  of  continuous 
labor  and  the  gladsomeness  with  which  he  gave  himself  to  congenial 
society ;  the  solid  and  severe  cast  of  his  understanding  and  yet  the 
poetic  ray  that  breaks  through,  in  spite  of  him,  like  lights  through 
the  close  pillars  of  some  perfect  Grecian  pile  ;  these,  his  probity  pub- 
lic and  private,  his  vigils,  and  his  amusements,  the  singular  esteem  of 
scholars  and  courtiers  alike  which  he  so  obviously  won,  his  great 
aspirations  and  the  frequent  and  profound  gloom  which  haunted  him, 
without  however,  casting  one  shade  of  bitterness  upon  his  intercourse 
with  others — all  these  must  be  seen  in  the  surviving  memorials  of 
this  period.  To  them  we  trust  that  readers  will  turn  ;  and  from 
them  supply  in  fancy  all  that  would  have  been  equally  delightful  in 
the  rest  of  his  life,  could  we  have  commanded  like  remains,  animated 
with  himself,  that  would  have  only  needed  a  slender  thread  of  nar- 
rative to  connect  them,  or  an  occasional  annotation  to  elucidate.  But 
while  such  things  as  these  tell  their  own  story,  and  while  the  greater 
public  labors  through  which  Legare  was  afterwards  to  pass  remain 
upon  the  general  memory  of  his  co-temporaries,  his  oratorical  per- 
formances, his  literary  and  his  professional  labors,  and,  above  all,  the 
long  and  silent  toil  of  self-formation,  from  which  flowed  all  the  rest, 
needed,  as  they  merited,  a  commemoration  that  should  make  them 
an  example  and  a  guide. 

The  reputation  of  his  singular  abilities,  attainments,  and  personal 
worth — always  sure  to  confirm  themselves  on  acquaintance — had 
preceded  him  abroad  ;  so  that,  when  he  passed  through  the  French 
capital,  its  able  sovereign  manifested  to  our  Minister,  Mr.  Rives,  a 
special  desire  to  know  him.  He  was  accordingly  presented  ;  and 
made  upon  the  monarch  a  very  advantageous  impression ;  which 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE.  lxiii. 

Was  no  doubt  transmitted  to  his  son-in-law,  the  prince  near  whom  he 
was  to  represent  us.  Certain  it  is  that  he  was  received  with  great 
kindness  and  speedily  secured,  in  a  very  high  degree,  the  personal 
confidence  and  regard  of  Leopold  and  his  queen.  Abundant  proofs 
of  the  pleasure  which  they  took  in  his  society  may  be  found  in  the 
notes  of  his  private  journal  kept  at  Brussels.  But  a  token  of  the 
affection  (so  rare  in  royal  bosoms,)  in  which  he  continued  to  be  held 
there,  reached  his  friends,  through  our  government,  when-  he  was  no 
more.  During  Leopold's  visit  to  England,  in  the  summer  of  1843, 
our  resident,  Mr.  Everett,  was  charged  by  him  with  a  particular  mes- 
sage for  Mr.  Legare  to  say  that  not  only  did  they  continue  to  remem- 
ber and  to  esteem,  but  sincerely  to  love  him.  He  clearly  appears  to 
have  enjoyed,  on  the  part  of  the  diplomatic  body  there  and  the  min- 
istry, a  deference  constantly  marked,  and  indeed  but  such  as  must 
have  been  yielded  himj  at  any  court  in  Europe,  as  one  of  its  most 
superior  men.  We  have  reason  to  know,  too,  from  other  sources, 
that  his  accomplishments  and  wrorth  are  yet  recollected  and  regretted 
in  Brussels. 

Amidst  the  crowd  of  enlightened  remarks  or  incidents  agreeably 
told  in  these  letters  and  journals,  the  diary  will  be  found  to  contain 
many  affecting  traces  of  his  peculiar  habits  and  feelings — the  records 
of  his  studies, — of  his  unwearied  longings  for  home, — of  the  visits  of 
that  blacker  melancholy  which,  rising  up  from  organic  causes,  so 
often  darkened  his  blameless  life— and  perhaps  the  indistinct  stirrings 
of  some  gentler  feeling,  which  prudence  bade  him  repress.  The 
notes  of  his  studies  are  but  a  slight  part  of  the  memoranda  of  that 
sort  which  he  had,  from  his  boyhood,  habitually  kept.  Whether  he 
had  early  read  Gibbon  and  been  struck  with  his  method,  as  he  was 
certainly  fired  by  his  example,  we  know  not ;  but  among  his  earliest 
MSS.  is  found  a  regular  diary  and  analysis  of  the  books  he  read ; 
and  such  abstracts  of  each  day's  labours  and  of  the  methodizing  and 
partition  of  his  time,  he  continued  to  multiply,  until,  probably,  the 
excess  of  business  no  longer  permitted  it,  even  to  his  invincible  dili- 
gence. 

Towards  the  close  of  his  stay  in  Belgium,  he  received  from  his 
own  State  an  invitation  to  place  himself  at  the  head  of  an  effort  set 
on  foot  there,  by  all  its  leading  men,  to  revive  the  extinct  Review,  of 
which  he  had  been  the  main  support,  while  it  lasted.  In  this  view, 
very  liberal  offers  were  made  him  by  a  state  society  formed  with  this 
for  one  of  its  main  purposes.  He  refused  it,  however ;  for  he  had  by 
this  time  gone  far  in  the  great  professional  object  for  which  he  had 


lxiV.  BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE. 

come  abroad  ;  was  bent  on  that  as  the  main  aim  of  his  future  life  ; 
had  resolved  to  mix  in  politics  only  so  far  as  the  influence  and  celebri- 
ty achieved  in  these  might  assist  him  towards  the  other  higher  and 
more  solid  purpose ;  and  had  especially  decided  that,  in  an  age  of 
Bozzes  and  Benthams,  of  novels  and  utility,  pure  letters  and  true 
learning  were,  particularly  in  his  own  country,  the  saddest  of  all 
pursuits.  Under  the  same  general  persuasion,  he  had  already  dis* 
couraged  the  intimations  of  his  friends  that,  if  he  desired  it,  the  State 
would  gladly  have  him  at  the  head  of  her  college.  A  like  overture  was 
made  him,  some  few  years  later,  on  the  part  of  the  State-establishment 
of  Kentucky,  and  was  equally  declined.  Four  years  of  admirable  study 
and  observation  abroad  had  now,  however,  prepared  him  for  a  new 
and  a  greater  career;  and  in  the  summer  of  1836,  he  took  his  mea- 
sures for  returning  home.  That  autumn,  he  made  an  excursion  among 
the  seats  of  learning  in  Northern  Germany :  a  tour  of  which  a  suc- 
cinct but  highly  interesting  journal  is  preserved  among  the  papers 
now  given.  That  parting  look  taken  at  European  erudition,  he  bade 
farewell  to  Brussels,  and  set  out  home. 

In  New- York,  at  his  landing,  he  was  met  by  the  instances  of  hi3 
friends  to  allow  himself  to  be  put  in  nomination  to  Congress  for  the 
Charleston  district.  He  received  the  cordial  support  of  his  own  old 
political  friends,  and  with  it  the  suffrage  of  the  better  part  of  the 
Carolina  opposition,  who  knew  him  worthy  of  that  which  can  alone 
render  a  man  safe,  but  is  now  so  little  consulted  in  public  affairs, — 
a  complete  personal  confidence  in  his  rectitude  and  his  abilities.  At 
his  arrival  in  Charleston,  therefore,  he  had  little  to  do  but  to  speak  a 
speech,  and  to  be  elected  a  member  of  the  new  Congress  that  was  to 
come  in  with  the  accession  of  Mr.  Van  Buren,  in  the  following  March. 
He  went  in  as  of  that  leader's  friends  in  general ;  but  not  as  of  his 
indiscriminate  followers. 

To  his  friends,  among  whom  he  now  passed  some  time  in  re-fami* 
liarizing  himself  with  the  state  of  things  throughout  the  country — 
for  four  years,  seen  but  indistinctly  from  abroad — his  character  and 
his  mind  now  offered  themselves  in  aspects  much  more  imposing  than 
before.  He  had  greatly  ripened  not  merely  his  intellect,  but  the 
qualities  which  incessant  study  scarcely  permits  to  form  themselves— 
his  knowledge  of  affairs  and  men  such  as  they  will  (not  should)  be ; 
his  fitness  for  practice ;  the  great  gifts  of  common  sense  and  of  per- 
sonal judgment,  without  which  all  others  are  nearly  vain.  He  had 
gone  an  able  man  ;  he  came  back  a  very  wise  one :  but  still  not  wise 
(as  men  so  generally  become)  at  the  expense  of  diminished  feeling 


13I0GRAPHICAL  NOTICE.  lxV. 

or  ingenuousness.  He  had  only  learned  better  to  conduct  them.  He 
had  not  learnt  that  saddest  of  all  lessons,  to  disbelieve  in  the  virtue 
of  others — which  when  we  do,  all  our  own  is  gone :  but  he  had  learnt 
to  distinguish  and  to  know  how  far  to  trust  either  others  or  himself. 

In  the  month  of  September  following,  he  took  his  seat  in  Congress, 
at  the  extra  session,  called  by  the  new  administration,  to  deliberate 
on  the  measures  necessary  to  remedy  the  wide  and  terrible  financial 
disasters  which  an  unwise  tampering  with  the  currency  had  brought 
about.  In  the  debates  that  ensued,  his  principal  speech  was,  for  the 
wide  and  high  views  which  it  took  of  our  financial  condition,  the 
solid  yet  comprehensive  manner  in  which  he  treated  the  subject,  the 
variety  and  nobleness  of  knowledge  with  which  he  illustrated  it,  and 
the  force  as  well  as  splendor  of  his  entire  discourse,  felt  to  be  a  truly 
masterly  effort,  fit  to  rank  him  among  the  very  greatest  speakers  of  the 
day.  It  placed  him,  too,  openly  in  the  opposition,  as  of  that  seceding 
portion  of  the  old  Jackson  party  who,  against  the  financial  policy  of 
the  hard- money  men,  took  the  name  of  Conservatives — a  mode  of 
opinion  to  which  we  have  already  intimated  the  mind  and  feelings  of 
Mr.  Legare  tended  in  general. 

Brilliant,  however,  as  was  the  figure  which  he  made  throughout 
that  Congress  on  all  questions  in  which  he  took  part — except,  perhaps, 
that  of  the  contested  Mississippi  election,  where  he  certainly  got  upon 
the  wrong  side — he  was  thrown  out  at  the  next  election,  by  the  coali- 
tion which  had  in  the  meantime  ensued  in  Carolina  between  the  Cal- 
houn and  the  Van  Buren  parties. 

After  this,  Mr.  Legare  determined  to  devote  himself  entirely  to  his 
profession ;  and  he  at  once  put  on  all  its  harness.  He  was  immedi- 
ately engaged  in  several  of  the  great  causes  depending  in  the  courts 
of  South-Carolina.  The  first  of  any  magnitude  which  he  argued 
was  in  conjunction  with  his  friend  Mr.  Petigru,  and  was  one,  not 
only  affecting  in  its  incidents,  but  singularly  calculated  to  call  forth 
his  legal  strength  and  learning.  It  was  the  case  of  Pell  and  wife 
versus  The  Executors  of  Ball.  The  circumstances  of  the  case  were 
these:  A  Miss  Channing,  daughter  of  Mr.  Walter  Channing,  (a 
merchant  of  Boston,)  had  married  a  Mr.  Ball  of  South-Carolina,  and 
carried  him  a  large  fortune  without  any  settlement.  Mr.  Ball,  by  his 
last  will  and  testament,  bequeathed  to  his  wife  all  of  this  fortune. 
Embarking,  at  Charleston  for  a  visit  to  the  north,  on  board  the  ill-fa- 
ted steamboat  Pulaski,  which  blew  up  at  sea,  on  the  coast  of  North- 
Carolina,  in  1835,  they  both  perished  in  that  awful  catastrophe.  The 
question  in  the  cause  was,  which  survived  the  other :  if  Mrs.  Ball, 

VOL.  I. H 


Ixvi.  BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE. 

then  the  legacy  vested  in  her,  and  was  transmissible  to  her  sisters  ; 
if  her  husband,  then  the  legacy  had  lapsed,  fell  into  the  residue  of 
the  estate,  and  went  to  his  family. 

Mr.  Legare  was  engaged  on  behalf  of  Mrs.  Ball's  sisters.  On  the 
one  side,  it  was  contended  that  the  husband,  being  the  stronger,  must 
have  survived ;  and  the  doctrines  of  the  civil  law  on  the  subject  of 
survivorship  were  relied  on.  Here,  however,  Legare  was  a  master 
and  showed  that  all  these  presumptions  must  yield  to  positive  testi- 
mony. After  the  catastrophe,  Mrs.  Ball  was  seen  flying  wildly 
about  the  wreck,  her  voice  heard  above  all  others,  calling  for  her 
husband.  Availing  himself  of  this  single  but  affecting  fact — all  that, 
in  the  wild  terror  of  such  a  scene  could  be  known — Legare  converted 
it,  by  the  tragic  powers  of  his  eloquence,  into  an  irresistible  proof 
that  the  tender  husband,  whose  name  the  wife  shrieked  forth  so  dis- 
tractedly, must  have  already  perished.  Upon  the  narrow  theatre  of 
that  shattered  deck,  there  was  enacted,  he  said,  a  scene  to  paint  which 
all  that  the  imagination  or  poetry  could  invent  of  the  most  pathetic 
must  fail.  "She  called  upon  the  husband  upon  whom  she  had  never 
before  called  in  vain — upon  whose  arm  she  had  ever  leaned  in  danger — 
her  stay,  her  rescue  !  She  called — but  he  never  answered : — no,  sir? 
he  was  dead  !  he  was  dead !" 

Mrs.  Ball's  sisters  gained  the  suit,  as  also  another  point  in  the  case 
which  he  argued — that  the  legacy  was  general,  and  not  specific. 

He  was  also  engaged  in  another  of  the  great  cases  of  the  Charles- 
ton Circuit — (Cruger  versus  Daniel) — respecting  a  plantation  on  Sa- 
vannah river.  Here  his  skill  as  a  real-estate  lawyer  shone  conspicu- 
ously, and  here  he  was  again  successful.  There  was  another  case — 
(of  ejectment,  Talvande  vs.  Talvande) — a  notice  of  which  is  worth 
preserving,  from  an  incident  in  the  course  of  the  trial.  The  late 
Bishop  England  had  written  an  affecting  sketch  of  the  life  of  Madame 
Talvande,  the  defendant,  and  given  it  to  Mr.  Legare.  In  the 
course  of  his  argument  to  the  jury,  Mr.  Legare  read  this  sketch  with 
so  much  pathos  that  the  good  Bishop  could  not  refrain  from  shedding 
copious  tears.  Familiar  as  he  was  with  the  facts,  and  though  the  com- 
position was  his  own,  the  hearing  Mr.  Legare  read  it,  moved  profound- 
ly him  who  had  been  unaffected  in  writing  it.  Madame  Talvande 
gained  her  case. 

The  increasing  celebrity  which  these  and  other  ably  conducted 
causes  won  him,  and  the  strong  growth  of  his  professional  success, 
did  not  withhold  him  from  taking  active  part  in  the  canvass  which 
brought  about  the  great  party  revolution  of  1840.     To  this  he  lent,  in 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE.  lxVU. 

various  parts  of  the  country,  the  aid  of  his  commanding  eloquence, 
than  which  nothing  could  be  fitter,  either  to  direct  the  public  reason 
by  its  weight,  or  to  rouse  the  popular  passions  by  its  vehemence.  His 
harangue  at  Richmond  will  be  long  remembered,  on  that  theatre 
where  Webster,  about  the  same  time,  girded  up  his  loins  to  win  a 
Southern  reputation,  and  where  Clay  has  more  than  once  tasked  him- 
self. Legale  is  remembered  there  as  possibly  a  more  extraordinary 
speaker  than  either,  so  far  as  could  be  judged  from  a  single  effort. 
To  the  same  period  belongs  his  magnificent  speech  in  the  city  of 
New- York,  in  which  he  drew  the  most  masterly  picture  ever  sketched 
of  the  arts  of  demagogues  and  of  the  disastrous  passions  with  which 
they  fill  the  multitude.  For  truth,  for  force,  and  the  picture-like  dis- 
tinctness with  which  this  long  and  admirable  passage  was  worked 
up,  it  would  be  difficult  to  find  in  modern  oratory  any  thing  finer. 

About  the  same  time,  to  indulge  the  reverence  in  which  he  held 
him  whom  he  had  learned  to  esteem  the  first  statesman,  as  well  as 
the  first  orator  of  antiquity,  he  flung  into  the  New -York  Review  an 
admirable  article  on  "Demosthenes,  the  man,  the  orator,  and  the 
statesman."  A  second,  on  the  "Athenian  Democracy,"  formed  its 
companion  and  complement.  In  a  third,  he  gave,  upon  a  yet  more 
favorite  subject,  a  still  more  elaborate  paper — a  survey  of  the  "origin, 
history  and  influence  of  the  Roman  Law." 

In  the  next  year,  the  resignation  of  the  original  Harrison  cabinet 
led  to  the  selection  of  Mr.  Legare  for  the  Attorney  Generalship  of 
the  United  States.  Of  the  circumstances  under  which  he  received 
it,  and  the  manner  in  which  he  discharged  its  duties,  we  can  call  up 
again  distinguished  testimony — that  of  one  who  personally  knows  the 
facts  which  he  affirms— Mr.  Preston.     He  says: 

"When  he  was  called  to  the  office  of  Attorney  General,  there  was 
an  universal  acquiescence  in  the  propriety  of  the  appointment.  It 
was  given  to  no  intrigue,  no  solicitation,  no  party  services,  but  con- 
ferred upon  a  fit  man  for  the  public  good.  It  was  precisely  that, 
office  for  which  Mr.  Legare  was  most  ambitious.  He  had  endea- 
vored to  qualify  himself  for  it.  He  thought  himself  not  unworthy  of 
it,  and  he  desired  it  as  a  means  of  effecting,  to  some  extent,  his  great 
object  in  regard  to  ameliorations  in  the  jurisprudence  of  the  coun- 
try— and  as  a  means  of  placing  him  eventually  on  the  bench  of  the 
Supreme  Court,  where  he  would  be  able  still  farther  to  develop  and 
establish  his  plan  of  reform.  His  practice  as  Attorney  General  was 
attended  with  the  most  conspicuous  success.  Many  of  the  judges 
expressed  their  great  admiration  of  his  efforts  during  the  first  term, 


Ixviii.  BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE. 

and  the  whole  bench  awarded  to  him  the  palm  of  exalted  merit.  His 
official  opinions,  delivered  on  questions  arising  in  the  administration 
of  government,  were  formed  with  laborious  deliberation,  clearly  and 
ably  argued,  and  have  been  sustained  without  exception.  On  the 
very  important  question — whether  upon  the  expiration  of  the  compro- 
mise act,  there  was  any  law  for  the  farther  collection  of  revenue,  he 
differed  from  a  great  majority  of  the  bar,  and  from  most  of  the  lead- 
ing politicians  in  Congress,  of  both  parties — it  was  supposed,  too,  from 
a  majority  of  the  Cabinet — but  his  opinion  has  been  ascertained  to 
be  correct." 

The  fame  which  this  eminent  man  chiefly  sought — the  fame  for 
which  he  had  ever  sought  the  attainments  that  drew  him  a  different 
reputation — was  wisely  that  of  his  profession.  A  few  notices,  then, 
of  the  chief  causes  which  he  argued  after  he  came  to  the  Attorney 
Generalship,  and  we  shall  close  this  imperfect  memorial  of  his  merits 
and  of  our  affection. 

It  was  in  September,  1841,  that  he  took  office.  In  the  January 
following  met  the  Supreme  Court,  before  which  he  was  now  to  ap- 
pear in  a  character  such  as  made  it  to  him  a  new  arena.  The  first 
case  that  he  took  up  was  that  of  Watkins  vs.  Holmarts  Heirs,  re- 
ported in  16  Peters;  a  case  that  had  been  agued  in  the  previous  term, 
but  which  the  judges  had  ordered  to  be  heard  a  second  time.  A 
gentleman  who  walked  up  to  the  capitol  with  him,  on  the  morning 
when  he  spoke,  tells  us  that  Legare  said  to  him:  "It  has  been  said 
that  I  am  a  mere  literary  man ;  but  I  will  show  them  to-day  whether 
I  am  a  lawyer  or  not."  The  question  was  one  to  call  for  all  his 
strength,  and  well  did  he  sustain  the  expectations  of  his  friends  ;  for 
a  greater  argument  was  never  made  in  the  Supreme  Court.  The 
question  involved  the  right  to  property  of  great  value  in  the  city  of 
Mobile.  Holman,  at  the  time  of  his  death,  owned  this  property. 
His  widow  took  out  letters  of  administration  in  Massachusetts,  and, 
acting  under  them,  procured  an  act  of  the  Legislature  of  Alabama 
to  sell  this  real  estate  for  the  payment  of  his  debts.  The  property 
had  been  accordingly  sold,  and  streets  and  houses  had  been  made 
and  built  on  it.  The  heirs  of  Holman  now  brought  an  action  of 
ejectment  against  the  purchasers,  on  the  ground  that  the  act  of  the 
Legislature  was  unconstitutional  and  void,  as  being  an  interference 
with  the  judicial  power — the  legislative  and  judicial  power  being 
distinct  in  the  Constitution  of  that  State.  Mr.  Legare  maintained 
the  constitutionality  of  the  act,  and  that  this  was  a  mere  advance- 
ment of  the  remedy.     The  Court  sustained  this  view  of  the  case. 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE.  lxix. 

At  the  same  term,  he  argued  another  private  case — Hobby  vs.  Kelsey; 
and  was  successful  in  it  also.  He  argued  eight  cases  on  behalf  of 
the  United  States,  the  two  principal  of  which  were,  The  United 
Stales  vs.  Miranda,  and  Wood  vs.  The  United  States.  The  first  was 
the  case  of  a  Spanish  land-grant,  under  which  was  claimed  368,640 
acres  on  the  waters  of  Hillsboro'  and  Tampa  Bays  in  Florida.  The 
grounds  maintained  on  behalf  of  the  United  States  were  that  the 
grant  was  a  forgery,  but  if  that  should  not  be  made  out,  then,  that  it 
was  void  from  uncertainty.  In  a  jury  trial  in  the  court  of  East  Flo- 
rida, the  jury  had  found  the  grant  genuine,  and  the  judge  had  also 
declared  it  valid  ;  but  not  to  the  extent  claimed.  Here  again  he  was 
successful,  and  upset  the  grant.  Miranda,  the  grantee,  had  been  a 
rower  in  the  pilot  launch  of  the  bar  of  St.  Augustine ;  and  yet  a 
man  in  his  condition  of  life,  it  was  pretended,  had  received  this 
princely  grant.  Legare's  knowledge  of  Spanish  was  of  the  greatest 
use  to  him  in  this  case,  and  in  all  the  Florida  land  cases.  The  other 
great  government  case  of  that  term,  Wood  vs.  the  United  States,  had 
relation  to  the  great  frauds  that  had  been  committed  on  the  revenue 
by  false  invoices.  This  was  the  first  of  these  cases  that  came  up  to 
the  Supreme  Court,  and  settled  the  principles  applicable  to  cases  of 
this  character. 

The  next  year  he  argued  a  case  involving  the  right  of  ferry  be- 
tween the  cities  of  Louisville  and  JerTersonville,  and  was  successful. 
But  his  great  argument  that  year  was  in  the  case  of  Jewell  vs. 
Jewell — a  case  involving  the  question,  What  was  the  law  of''mar- 
riage  in  the  United  States  ?  For  historical  research,  and  noble  and 
elevated  views  of  the  interests  of  society,  with  reference  to  the  matri- 
monial contract,  it  was  unequalled.  It  is  to  be  regretted  that  this 
argument  has  not  been  reported  ;  for  all  who  heard  it  admitted  that 
it  was  one  of  his  greatest  efforts.  As  an  instance  of  the  care  with 
which  he  prepared  himself,  a  friend  informs  us  that  he  sent  to  Vienna 
for  EichorrCs  Kirkenrechts,  for  the  purposes  of  this  argument. 

While  occupying  only  the  function  to  which  he  had  been  at  first 
called — that  of  the  law-member  of  the  cabinet — his  wide  and  mas- 
terly skill  to  direct,  in  the  very  various  and  high  legal  and  constitu- 
tional questions  which  were  submitted  to  him,  gave  him  (as  may  be 
judged  from  what  we  have  already  related)  a  very  high  authority  in 
the  administration.  Nor  did  that  authority  ever  fail,  in  discretionary 
matters,  to  be  exerted  on  the  side  of  just  and  moderate  counsels,  as  to 
both  party  and  the  public.  The  integrity  and  the  elevation  of  all  his 
aims ;  the  liberality  and  the  calmness  of  all  his  views ;  his  catholic 


1XX.  BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE. 

spirit  towards  his  country  and  his  countrymen  of  whatever  section 
and  of  whatever  doctrine  that  was  respectable  and  sought  or  was  capa- 
ble to  effect  the  common  purpose  of  good — (attainable  with  all  doctrines 
alike,  since  doctrine  has  very  little  to  do  with  it)— preserved  for  him, 
even  amidst  a  most  unpopular  administration,  the  general  confidence 
and  relations  the  most  kindly  with  whatever  he  met  of  worth  and 
eminence,  among  either  opposition*  whether  in  official  duty  or  in  social 
intercourse.  Some  of  his  most  intimate  friends— two  in  particular  of 
the  most  devoted— were  among  the  most  determined  and  even  bitter 
opponents  of  the  administration  to  which  he  belonged.  Indeed,  re- 
markable as  that  administration  was,  as  fatal  to  the  reputation  (where 
there  was  any)  of  every  other  that  it  drew  to  it,  Mr.  Legare  stood  an 
exception,  and  won  quite  as  much  on  the  national  esteem  as  the  rest 
lost  If  he  thus  gained  upon  the  public,  it  is  much  to  Mr.  Tyler's 
honor  that,  by  his  abilities,  his  rectitude,  and  the  firmness  with  which, 
as  an  adviser,  he  resisted  many  things  of  wrong,  he  equally  gained 
upon  not  merely  what  could  not  be  withheld — the  President's  res- 
pect— but  his  affection.  The  influence  which  he  had  obtained  some- 
time before  his  death  is  yet  little  known,  because  altogether  legitimate, 
and  quietly  exercised  for  good,  upon  important  occasions  only :  but  it 
was  at  last  probably  greater  than  any  body  else  possessed. 

This  extreme  confidence  in  his  intentions  and  admiration  of  his 
abilities  induced  President  Tyler,  upon  the  withdrawing  of  Mr.  Web- 
ster from  the  cabinet,  to  confide  to  Mr.  Legare,  in  long  ad  interim,  the 
care  't)f  the  State  department,  in  heavy  addition  to  the  laboriously- 
performed  duties  of  his  own.  Besides  the  older  proofs  of  his  fitness 
for  the  diplomatic  functions,  he  had  given  such  important  aid  in  the 
conduct  of  a  part  of  the  Ashburton  treaty!  as  manifested  his  eminent 
qualifications  for  the  new  trust.  He  discharged  it,  accordingly,  ad- 
mirably :  but  perhaps  with  a  fidelity  which,  amidst  the  mass  of  his 
other  labours,  abridged  his  life. 

In  July,  1842.  he  suffered  the  severest  personal  affliction  that  his 
life  had  yet  known — the  loss  of  his  sister,  Mrs.  Bryan  ;  a  lady  of 
such  virtues  as  a  heart  like  his  might  well  deeply  regret,  since  few 
have  been  deplored  by  a  larger  or  more  attached  circle  of  friends. 

In  the  following  January  came  a  still  severer  calamity — the  death 
of  the  admirable  mother  to  whom  he  owed  so  much,  and  whom  he 
repaid  with  such  an  extreme  filial  devotion.     After  the  loss  of  her 


*  For  there  were  then  two. 

1  That  part  of  it  involving  the  question  of  the  Right  of  Search. 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE.  lxxi. 

elder  daughter,  she  had  yielded  to  his  earnest  entreaties,  and  came  to 
receive  beneath  his  roof  the  tender  cares  of  which  her  declining  age 
began  to  have  need.  There,  watched  over  as  fondly  as  she  was 
piously  deplored,  she  soon  breathed  her  last  in  his  arms.  He  seems 
in  communicating  the  event  to  their  common  friend,  Judge  King,  of 
Charleston,  to  have  burst  out  into  a  lamentation  and  an  encomium 
such  as  he  might  well  utter  and  she  receive.  She  died,  however,  full 
of  years,  her  duties  of  life  admirably  done,  her  hopes  as  much  crown- 
ed in  the  merited  eminence  of  her  son  as  her  affections  in  his  exem- 
plary love. 

The  severe  bereavement  saddened  only,  but  was  permitted  not  long 
to  interrupt  public  duties  so  grave  as  those  that  bore  upon  him.  He 
went  on  to  perform,  with  unbroken  application,  his  double  offices. 
But  his  own  fate  was  now  almost  at  hand.  Powerful  as  seemed  his 
constitution,  there  was  clearly  in  him  some  structural  cause  of  dis- 
ease, some  latent  infirmity  which,  excited  by  his  habits  of  exhausting 
and  intense  work,  not  even  his  methodical  mode  of  living  could  baffle. 
In  the  autumn  before  his  death,  he  had  been  in  extreme  peril  from  an 
attack  of  visceral  derangement  such  as  finally  carried  him  off.  Very 
skilful  medical  assistance  had  then  saved  him,  but  not  without  bodily 
sufferings  so  terrible,  as  made  him  tell  his  sister,  that  if  it  pleased 
God,  he  would  rather  die  than  again  encounter  such  to  live.  But  on 
a  visit  to  Boston  with  the  President,  in  the  next  June,  to  assist  in  the 
Bunker  Hill  celebration,  he  was  seized,  on  the  day  of  his  arrival 
itself,  (Friday,  the  16th,)  with  a  return  of  the  same  malady.  On  the 
next  day — that  of  the  ceremonials — he  was  too  sick  to  take  any  part 
in  them.  In  spite  of  all  medical  aid,  though  called  in  at  once,  he 
grew  rapidly  worse,  suffering,  meanwhile,  intensely,  and  convinced  of 
his  danger,  but  perfectly  calm  and  preparing  himself  for  the  event. 
On  Sunday  evening,  manifestly  in  much  danger,  he  yielded  to  the 
solicitude  of  his  alarmed  friends,  Professor  Ticknor  and  his  amiable 
wife,  and  suffered  himself  to  be  removed  from  his  public  lodgings  to 
their  house  in  Park  street.  There,  in  spite  of  every  care  of  friendship 
and  every  effort  of  skill,  he  breathed  his  last,  at  5  o'clock,  on  the 
morning  of  the  20th.  He  had  sustained  his  advancing  disease  with 
entire  courage  and  cheerfulness,  and  met  his  expected  fate  with  a 
manliness  such  as  became  a  life  so  good.  The  intervals  of  violent 
pains,  during  the  day  preceding  his  dissolution,  were  spent  in  giving 
directions  as  to  the  disposal  of  such  public  duties  as  needed  that  final 
care,  and  in  putting  in  order  his  own  private  affairs.  All  this  was 
performed  with  admirable  clearness  and  composure,  an     mixed  only 


lxxii.  BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE. 

with  tokens  of  the  feelings  which,  at  such  a  moment,  fly  to  the  dis- 
tant embrace  of  friendship  and  of  love,  and,  agitating  the  heart  for 
the  last  time,  can  yet  not  shake  the  firm  soul.  His  last  murmured 
words  were,  as  had  been  his  latest  written  sentence,  of  his  surviving 
sister;  and,  affection  and  consciousness  ceasing  only  together,  he  ex* 
pired  so  calmly  in  the  arms  of  his  friend  Mr.  Ticknor,  that  the  latter 
scarcely  knew  when  that  noble  mind  had  passed  away. 

A  man  far  the  most  remarkable  that  our  country  has  seen,  in  all 
accomplishments  of  public  life,  he  left  nothing  to  be  lamented  in  his 
career,  except  its  early  close.  The  general  burst  of  concern — deepest 
where  it  did  him  the  most  honor — which,  over  the  entire  land,  fol* 
lowed  his  death,  testified  but  too  weU  how  widely  was  spreading  the 
quiet  but  sure  force  of  his  reputation,  and  how  much,  in  the  full 
twenty  years  of  life  due,  he  would  have  achieved  of  useful  to  his 
times  and  memorable  to  others.  The  vast  plan,  the  peculiar  civil 
labor  for  which  he  had  cast  himself,  daring  as  it  was,  was  beginning 
to  be  within  his  reach,  as  it  was  within  his  faculties ;  but  has  perish- 
ed with  him,  in  a  time  that  can  no  more,  even  by  accident,  breed  such 
men.  As  for  the  formality  of  summing  up  his  character,  we  shall 
not  attempt  it.  If  we  are  able  to  do  it,  it  is  already  sufficiently 
done,  without  the  pomp  and  elaboration  of  set  praise. 

Valued,  as  he  should  be,  by  not  merely  what  he  lived  to  complete, 
it  may  be  said  of  him,  with  nothing  of  exaggeration,  that  while,  as 
an  orator  and  a  politician,  he  rivalled  the  splendor  of  Burke  and  his 
flashing  reach  of  thought,  as  a  scholar  he  entirely  equalled  Gibbon 
in  labour  and  in  learning,  and  would  have  placed  himself  in  parallel 
with  Mansfield  as  a  lawyer.  Brief  as  was  the  term  which  Heaven, 
so  bountiful  to  him  in  all  else,  permitted,  he  had  filled  it  with  singular 
honor,  and,  in  the  sight  of  the  well-judging, 

"Had  reaped  what  glory  life's  short  harvest  yields." 

E.  W.  J. 

Washington,  (D.  C.)  Feb.  27,  1846. 


WRITINGS 


OP 


HUGH  SWJNTON  LEGARE. 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 

Braxelles,  16th  May,  1833. 
As  I  have  found,  by  experience  on  former  occasions,  that  a 
diary  is  a  very  amusing  thing,  and  not  altogether  unprofitable 
to  him  that  keeps  it,  after  the  lapse  of  a  few  years,  I  am  deter- 
mined to  struggle  with  my  most  supine  indolence,  so  far  as  to 
fill  up  such  a  daily  record  of  my  actings  and  sayings.  Forsan  et 
hcec  olim  meminisse  juvabit  I  can  go  no  further  back  than  the 
first  of  the  fifth  month,  and  even  then,  for  the  fortnight  past,  my 
notice  of  things  will  be  very  general  and  inexact. 

\st  May — St  Philip.  The  ambassador  of  France,  who  is 
lately  moved  to  a  fine  hotel  at  the  corner  of  the  Rue  Ducale, 
opposite  to  that  of  Prince  Auguste  d'Arenberg,  celebrates  the 
fete  of  His  Majesty,  the  King  of  France,  by  a  grand  diplomatic 
dinner  in  costume.  Thirty  odd  persons  are  present, — all  of 
them  functionaries,  civil  or  military.  The  English  minister,  Sir 
Robert  Adair  on  the  right,  and  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs, 
M.  le  General  Goblet  on  the  left  of  the  Count  de  Latour- 
Maubourg ;  opposite  to  whom  sat  the  newly-arrived  Secretary 
of  the  French  legation,  Casimir  Perier,  son  of  the  famous  juste 
milieu  Minister  of  State,  feu.  M.  Casimir  Perier.  I  sat,  by  M. 
de  Latour-Maubourg's  request,  at  the  right  hand  of  the  Secretary. 
Table  crowded, — salle-a-manger,  like  most  of  the  other  rooms 
in  this  part  of  Brussels,  (at  least)  not  large  or  long  enough  for  a 
gala  day.  Service  at  table,  though  waiting-men  (some  in  gala 
livery)  sufficiently  numerous,  not  very  ready.  Every  thing  I 
ate  as  cold  as  at  a  royal  banquet.  Talked  a  good  deal  with  Mr. 
vol.  I. — 1. 


2  DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 

Perier,  who  has  been  three  years  in  England,  attache  to  M.  de 
Talleyrand,  and  with  General  Desprez,  Chief  of  Etat-Major- 
General,  and,  I  believe,  at  the  head  of  the  army  here  in  all 
respects.  He  is  (par  parenthese)  a  French  officer,  and,  because 
a  child  of  the  revolution  and  empire,  has  seen  the  manners  and 
cities  of  many  men,  and,  although  a  child,  etc.,  is  tres  instruit. 
He  understands  his  own  business,  they  say,  thoroughly,  being 
quite  a  scientific  engineer,  etc.;  but,  besides  that,  he  is,  for  a 
Frenchman  of  his  day,  extremely  well-informed  in  other  matters, 
and  even  quotes  Tacitus  apropos.  He  speaks  English  comme  pa, 
and  speaks  it  without  the  least  diffidence.  M.  Perier  speaks  it, 
of  course,  much  better.  This  young  gentleman  has  great  expec- 
tations. He  is  about  twenty-two  or  three  years  of  age, — has 
80,000  francs  a  year  of  his  own,  and  a  mother  with  the  same 
income, — and  the  eclat  of  his  father's  name  to  help  him  forward 
to  the  high  places  which,  no  doubt,  await  him.  He  is  very 
amiable,  and  does  not  seem  too  much  pleased  with  London.  J 
told  him  our  English  circle  here  was  almost  our  only  society, 
and  a  very  charming  one, — English  on  the  Continent  being 
more  English,  (that  is,  less  stupidly  artificial  and  pedantic,)  and, 
therefore,  more  estimable  and  agreeable  than  in  the  fashionable 
circles  of  their  metropolis, — where  one  sees  nothing  but  glare 
and  glitter  in  the  materiel,  and  envy,  hatred,  malice,  and  all 
uncharitableness,  taking  the  antic  shape  of  systematized  rude- 
ness and  coldness,  under  the  name  of  "the  thing",  (bon-ton,)  as 
to  the  moral. 

Tn  the  evening,  a  little  party  at  Mr*.  Durham  Calderwood's,  a 
sweet  little  Scotch- woman, — a  good  house, — married  to  a  naval 
officer,  and  now  residing  here  a  few  months.  All  English. 
Marchioness  of  Hastings  and  two  of  her  daughters,  Lady  Flora 
and  Lady  Adelaide,  here.  Have  a  long  conversation  with  Lady 
Flora,  who  is  a  charming  person, — tall,  with  blue  eyes  and  fair 
hair,  very  much  given  to  reading,  perfectly  acquainted  (as  far  as 
a  young  lady  can  be)  with  the  world,  which  she  has  travelled 
all  over,  and  having  the  sort  of  manners  befitting  her  birth  and 
station.  Lady  Hastings  herself  was  Countess  of  Loudoun  in 
her  own  right. 

Hotel  of  the  French  embassy  illuminated.  I  ought  to  have 
mentioned  that,  by  way  of  accompaniment  to  the  dessert  at 
dinner,  M.  Goblet  proposed  the  health  of  the  King  of  France, 
with  some  words  expressive  of  the  services  he  had  rendered  to 
the  cause  of  Belgium  ;  and  that,  some  time  after,  M.  de  Latour- 
Maubourg  returned  the  compliment,  by  proposing  that  of  King 
Leopold.     No  more  toasts  were  drunk,  and  tant  mieux. 

2d  May.  Rose  at  my  usual  hour, — read  until  half-past  8, — 
shaved, — took  tea  and  dry  toast,  etc.     Nothing  unusual  about 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS.  & 

me,  and  as  I  had  recently  gone  to  Antwerp  and  back  again, 
spending  three  days  after  the  fashion  of  travellers,  I  had  some 
reason  to  expect  that  I  should  be  pretty  well  for  some  time,  until 
hard  study,  free  living,  etc.,  should  make  it  necessary  for  me  to 
change  the  air  again.  Mens  caeca  futuri !  At  half-past  11, 
while  I  was  reading  Pindar  in  my  salon,  I  was  seized,  with  the 
suddenness  of  a  flash  of  lightning,  with  a  most  violent  pain  in 
my  breast,  piercing  me  through  and  through,  but  especially 
under  the  right  shoulder-blade.  Evening,  still  worse.  Night, 
sleepless.  Small  party  at  Lady  Charlotte  Fitzgerald's.  The 
Lady  Hastings'  there.  Had  a  long  conversation  with  Captain 
Hamilton,  brother  of  the  English  Secretary  of  Legation,  whom 
I  had  met  with  before,  especially  at  Court,  (dinner)  on  the  30th 
April.  Very  sensible  and  worthy  man,  of  the  conservative  school. 
Tells  me  he  hopes  to  see  me  again  at  Prince  Auguste's,  on  Satur- 
day,— the  last  day  of  his  present  visit  to  Brussels. 

3d  May.  Horrible  pain  continues.  I  study  through  it,  and, 
at  night,  to  ensure  my  repose,  take  a  few  drops  of  laudanum. 
Well  I  do,  for  in  spite  of  the  narcotic,  I  repeatedly  wake  in  pain, 
though  the  "slumbrous  influence"  of  the  anodyne  prevents  my 
sufferings  being  prolonged  at  any  one  time.  Remember  nothing. 

Ath  May.  Pain  still  acute.  Study  as  usual ;  finish  Pindar 
and  the  diplomatic  correspondence  of  the  Revolution.  Dine  at 
Prince  Auguste  d'Arenberg's.  Capt.  Hamilton  not  there, — had 
been  attacked  much  in  the  same  way  as  myself.  I  mention  this 
to  his  brother,  who  says  he  has  suffered  from  some  such  thing 
himself.  Tells  me,  when  I  express  a  regret  at  the  Captain's 
absence,  that  it  is  mutual.  Very  warm  to-day.  The  weather 
had  hitherto  been  disagreeably  and  most  unseasonably  cold. 
The  sudden  change  creates  great  complaints,  but  I  tell  the  com- 
pany it  operates  on  me  like  the  liveliest  champagne. 

5th  May, — Sunday.  Nothing  particular.  Write  letters  to 
America,  against  my  next  despatch  day,  (next  Sunday). 

Evening.  Call  at  Mr.  Seymour's.  On  my  return,  see  the 
card  of  Mr.  Davezac,  brother  of  Mrs.  Edward  Livingston,  and 
Charge  d' Affaires  of  the  United  States  at  the  Hague. 

6th  May.  From  this  date,  the  order  of  my  studies  changed. 
Read  Greek,  henceforth,  before  breakfast.  After,  law  of  nations, 
civil  and  common  law,  politics,  etc.,  etc.  Begin  the  Odyssey, 
Vattel,  Letters  on  English  Chancery.  Translate  diplomatic 
pieces  out  of  French  into  English,  in  order  to  re-translate  into 
French.  At  11,  Mr.  Davezac  comes  in.  I  invite  him  to  dine, 
which  he  consents  to  do.     Long  conversation  ;  find  him  a  very 


4  DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 

sensible,  well-informed  man,  with  decided  marks  of  usage  of 
the  world  and  literary  taste  united.  After  he  goes  away,  and 
just  as  I  am  about  to  send  for  two  Polish  officers,  one  of  whom, 
Count  Lenowski,  having  been  attached  to  the  Russian  legation 
at  the  Hague,  is  an  old  acquaintance  of  Mr.  Davezac's,  a  young 
American  gentleman,  Mr.  Ritchie,  sends  up  his  card.  Receive 
him,  and  find  that  he  is  the  son  of  Mr.  Ritchie  of  the  Richmond 
Enquirer.  Invite  him  to  meet  Mr.  Davezac,  at  3  o'clock.  Call 
on  him  in  my  caleche,  and  take  him  to  see  the  toion,  the  Boule- 
vard, and  the  AlUe  Verte.  Dinner  at  half-past  5.  Count  Le- 
nowski there.  Davezac  extremely  entertaining.  Upon  my  asking- 
how  he  got  on  here  and  at  the  Hague  with  his  former  principal, 
Mr.  Preble,  (whose  Secretary  of  Legation  he  had  been,)  gave  us 
a  most  lively  and  diverting  sketch  of  his  character  and  manners. 
I  told  him,  after  he  had  done,  that  he  deserved  the  eternal  grati- 
tude of  his  country, — that  I  had  conceived  a  very  inadequate 
idea  of  what  he  had  suffered  in  her  service,  etc.,  etc. 

7th  May.  Non  mi  ricordo  :  only  ill  of  a  cold  and  the  old 
rheumatism. 

8th  May.  Very  indisposed  still.  Dine  at  Prince  Auguste's. 
Ask  him,  at  dinner,  if  he  has  read  Mr.  Nothomb's  (Secretary 
General  in  the  department  of  Foreign  Affairs)  Essay  on  the 
Revolution.  Answers  by  asking  if  I  have  read  the  preface.  1 
reply  affirmatively  ;  whereupon  he  tells  me  I  am  able  to  judge 
of  the  whole  work  from  that  precious  specimen  of  garrulous 
egotism  and  superficial  pretension.  The  Prince,  however,  is 
sometimes  morose,  always  cntete,  and  most  thoroughly  antedi- 
luvian in  his  politics, — by  which  ingenious  epithet  I  would  have 
all,  who  have  neither  learned  nor  forgotten  any  thing  since  the 
debordement  of  '89,  to  be  designated.  He  is  an  excellent  speci- 
men, by  the  way,  of  la  vieille  cour, — active  mind,  quick  percep- 
tion, love  of  reading, — conversation  lively,  diversified,  piquante 
sans  emphase, — taste  for  the  "news  of  the  day,"  (chronique 
scandaleuse,) — perfectly  versed  in  the  forms  of  life  and  manners 
of  the  world,  and  apparently  acquainted  with  the  history  of 
every  prominent  person  in  it.  He  is  now  octogenaire,  but  in 
most  perfect  preservation.  Lives  "like  a  prince";  gives  dinners 
perpetually,  but  never  accepts  an  invitation.  Has  the  best  of 
cooks,  service  of  silver  plaque,  and  half  a  dozen  serving-men,  in 
brilliant  livery,  with  two  valets — but  no  other  fuss  or  show  about 
his  table.  Seldom  invites  as  many  as  16 — sometimes  12,  gener- 
ally 10,  and  the  same  set  (with  occasional  variations  as  to  some 
of  the  individuals  that  compose  it)  always.  The  English  Am- 
bassador and  his  Secretary  of  Legation,  (Sir  George  Hamilton, 
the  reigning  and  all-prevailing  favorite  of  the  Prince,)  consider 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS.  5 

themselves  as  regularly  "abonnes",  and  refuse  all  other  invita- 
tions on  the  Prince's  days,  (Mondays,  Wednesdays  and  Satur- 
days,) and  the  invariable  guest  is  Sir  Henry  Seton,  the  King's 
Secretary, — a  dry,  sly,  droll,  diverting  Scotchman,  blase  in  the 
circles  of  London  fashionable  life,  and  bearing  its  stamp  in  his 
manners  and  character. — But  the  Prince.  Speaking  of  him  the 
other  day  at  Madame  Latour-Maubourg's,  with  Count  Henry  de 
Merode — (apropos,  I  had  heard  the  Prince  talk,  more  than  once, 
with  great  freedom  and  some  severity,  of  the  busy-body  readi- 
ness with  which  certain  members  of  this  old  and  prominent 
family  (they  are  connected  with  M.  de  La  Fayette)  presented 
themselves,  wherever  they  heard  of  a  row  in  any  part  of  Eu- 
rope,)— this  very  amiable  gentleman  remarked,  with  his  usual 
douceur  and  diffidence,  "he  (the  Prince)  has  at  present  a  great 
horror  of  recollections,  but  it  was  not  always  so.  In  '89,  (the 
Prince  was,  at  Paris,  a  favorite  of  Maria- Antoinette,  as  Count  de 
la  March, — see  Gouverneur  Morris'  correspondence,)  he  was  not 
a  little  affected  with  the  reigning  maniaP  However,  all  this 
by  the  way. — I  only  mean  to  record  why  I  received  his  placitum 
as  to  M.  le  Secretaire-General's  (a  creation  of  the  late  convulsion, 
who,  besides  being  as  self-complacent  as  if  he  were  well-born,  is 
an  avocat,  wears  a  dirty  shirt,  unwashed  hands,  etc.,  etc.)  cum 
grano  salts.  After  dinner,  shews  me  the  work  inter-leaved, 
and  garnished  cum  comme?itario  perpetuo,  in  MS.,  the  said 
commentary  being  what  the  Prince  had  dictated  to  his  secretary 
in  reading  it.  Run  over  some  pages  of  the  MS.,  and  find  them 
worthy  of  more  deliberate  attention.  The  Prince,  after  some 
time,  calls  out  to  me  to  have  done ;  that  he  did  not  mean  to  im- 
pose a  task  upon  me,  etc.  Besides,  if  T  be  so  inclined,  he  will 
lend  me  the  whole  when  it  shall  have  been  finished.  I  shall  not 
fail  to  ask  for  it,  for  I  was  interested  in  what  I  read. 

Sir  R.  Adair  comes  up  to  me  and  says,  I  have  a  design  upon 
you.  The  Prince  has  been  talking  to  me  of  a  work  of  Tacitus 
I  never  heard  of, — a  discourse  on  Eloquence.  O  yes,  say  I ;  a 
dialogue  of  orators,  or,  as  it  is  more  appropriately  termed,  de 
causis  corrupts  eloquential,  an  admirable  piece  of  criticism, 
sometimes  attributed,  though  I  never  could  understand  why,  to 
the  great  historian  of  despotism.  In  my  opinion,  the  pretensions 
of  Gtuinctilian,  or  Pliny  the  younger,  or  any  body  else,  etc.,  are 
much  more  plausible.  Afterwards,  Sir  Robert  states  what  I  say 
to  the  Prince,  who  seems  pleased  at  it,  and  refers  to  a  passage 
about  the  necessity  of  disorders  in  a  State  to  the  existence  of 
true  eloquence,  which  soars  highest,  like  certain  birds,  (I  had  an 
eye,  to  confess  the  truth,  to  our  own  dear  Carolina  buzzards,) 
upon  the  wings  of  the  tempest.  I  cite  in  the  original  the  pas- 
sage referred  to :  Magna  ilia  et  notabilis  eloquentia,  alumna 
licentia,  comes  seditionum,  etc.,  etc. 


b  DTARY  OP  BRUSSELS. 

9th  May ', —  Thursday.  King  on  a  tour  in  Flanders.  No  din- 
ner at  Court  to-day.  As  to  the  rest,  non  mi  ricordo,  except  that 
I  continue  very  much  indisposed,  and  resolve  to  starve  out  my 
ailings,  whatever  they  be. 

My  valet  de-chambre,  a  Spaniard  of  the  name  of  Fulano  Fer- 
rari, has  an  audience  of  me,  to-day,  to  explain  his  long  absence, 
which  had  made  me  set  him  down  with  Scipio  and  other  valets 
of  the  same  stamp  in  my  favorite  Gil  Bias ;  since,  after  he  had 
exceeded  his  furlough  more  than  a  fortnight,  1  asked  my  foot- 
man whether  he  had  taken  every  thing  of  his  with  him.  The 
answer  was  in  the  affirmative,  extending  even  to  the  black  coat 
he  wears  ex-officio  as  my  ayuda  de  camera  inclusive.  Having 
been  led  by  false  appearances  (but  through  his  own  indiscretion) 
to  think  him  capable  of  theft  and  petty  treason,  I  felt  bound,  in 
justice  to  him,  to  take  him  back,  the  more  especially  as  fame, 
which,  in  a  small  city  and  a  court  circle,  never  spares  any  body, 
especially  single  gentlemen  and  ladies  and  their  servants,  was 
beginning  to  make  rather  free  with  his  reputation, — but  I  am 
satisfied,  from  other  evidence,  that  he  is  not  worthy  of  the  confi- 
dence I  once  reposed  in  him,  and,  whilst  I  admit  him  again  to 
my  service,  I  take  care  it  shall  not  be  on  the  old  footing, — espe- 
cially as  to  the  powers  of  a  paymaster-general. 

10th  May.     Fast  again,  and  don't  go  out  at  all.     Eyes  bad. 

11th.  Dine  at  Prince  Auguste's.  Company  small,  owing  to 
a  dinner  which  Mr.  Perier  gives  in  the  country  to  a  party  of 
ladies,  which  takes  him  away,  with  the  Hamiltons,  and  Lady 
Wm.  Paget  and  her  mother.  Present,  Sir  R.  Adair,  Sir  H.  Seton, 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Seymour  with  their  two  daughters,  M.  Baillet  and 
myself.  At  dinner,  ask  the  Prince  if  he  is  acquainted  with 
Goinon's  Memoires.  Answers  affirmatively.  Conversation  turns 
on  what  he  says  of  the  first  incidents  of  the  French  Revolution. 
I  mention  a  pun, — parler  bas  et  opiner  du  bonnet, — shewing 
that  he  had  taken  notice  of  the  motley  of  the  first  assemblies. 
Allude  to  what  he  says  of  the  prodigious  run  of  the  Marriage  of 
Figaro.  But  times  are  changed,  says  the  Prince,  and  few  are 
the  works  of  men  that  do  not  change  with  them.  The  other 
evening  they  acted  this  same  piece,  the  impression  made  by 
which,  half  a  century  ago,  I  so  well  remember  ;  on  our  boards, 
it  fell  lifeless  as  it  were.  The  subject  was  out  of  date.  What 
was  bold  then,  is  now  banal, — what  hit  most  forcibly,  is, 
through  subsequent  changes,  become  inapplicable,  etc.,  etc.  In 
short,  nothing  could  be  more  flat.  The  famous  monologue  of 
the  great  barber  was  received  without  one  token  of  effect. 

\2th  May.     System  of  diet  kept  up.     Take  a  drive  in  the 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS.  7 

Allee  Verte  after  dinner  ;  find  it  crowded  with  equipages  of  one 
sort  or  other  ;  none  brilliant ;  great  deal  of  dust.  Evening  at 
Mr.  Seymour's.  Return  at  half-past  10.  At  11  received  a  card 
from  the  Marchioness  Dowager  of  Hastings,  bidding  me  to  her 
house,  or  rather  lodgings,  on  Monday  evening. 

YSth  May.  Spare  fast  still.  Eyes  so  bad  am  compelled  to 
give  up  the  Odyssey,  and  to  read  nothing,  indeed.  Valet-de- 
chambre  reads  for  me  the  newspapers,  Gil  Bias,  etc.,  and  certain 
letters  on  the  English  Chancery,  published  by  M.  Royer-Collard. 
About  11,  Mr.  Ritchie  comes  in.  Invite  him  to  dine  next  day. 
Delightful  weather.  Lady  Hastings'  party,  all  the  English  of 
note  here.  Talk  principally  with  Lady  Flora ;  presented  to 
Lady  Sophia,  whom  I  did  not  yet  know.  Find  her  like  the  rest, 
very  intelligent,  lady-like  and  agreeable.  The  Rev.  Mr.  Drury 
slips  into  my  hand  a  letter  from  Basil  Hall,  who,  it  seems,  left 
Brussels  this  morning.  Mr.  D.,  who  met  with  him  the  day  be- 
fore, casually,  in  coming  from  church,  and  made  his  acquaint- 
ance, in  the  course  of  conversation  mentioned  that  he  had  in  his 
possession  an  American  review  of  Hall's  Travels,  which,  if  Capt. 
Hall  had  any  curiosity  to  see  it,  was  very  much  at  his  service. 
The  tourist,  at  first,  rather  declined  the  offer,  saying  that  he  had 
laid  it  down  as  a  rule  to  read  nothing  written  about  him  in 
America;  however,  he  ended  by  saying,  that  if  Mr.  D.  would 
send  it,  he  would  cast  his  eyes  over  it.  The  book  was  accord- 
ingly sent,  and  the  letter  now  handed  me  embodied  the  impres- 
sions which  my  article  on  Capt.  Hall's  Travels  had  made  upon 
the  author.  He  speaks  highly  of  his  critic  as  a  man  of  sense, 
honor  and  fairness,  but  seems  hurt  that  the  tourist  should  be 
regarded  as  one  under  the  influence  of  strong  pre-conceived 
opinions  ;  in  short,  as  a  perfect  homme  a  systeme.  I  shall  ask 
for  this  letter  and  send  it  to  Petigru,  Hall's  great  champion,  who 
found  fault  with  me  for  that  very  article.  Nota — Hall  asked 
Sir  G.  Hamilton,  very  particularly,  what  my  address  was. 

Had  a  conversation  with  Dr.  Tobin,  physician  of  the  British 
embassy  here,  to  whom  Mrs.  Seymour  introduced  me  on  account 
of  my  inflamed  eye.  Intelligent  man  ;  speaking  highly  of  Amer- 
ican physicians,  and  somewhat  (I  think)  of  a  democrat.  Tells 
me,  for  my  comfort,  that  many  people  are  suffering  in  the  same 
way,  Lady  Arundel  especially,  whom  he  is  now  attending ;  that 
Brussels,  and,  indeed,  all  this  country,  is  noted  for  the  prevalence 
of  this  disease,  which  may  arise  from  the  fine  white  dust,  and 
is,  without  doubt,  greatly  aggravated  by  the  ignorance  of  the 
physicians, — the  most  ignorant,  he  affirms,  of  all  the  disciples  of 
iEsculapius.  But  what,  he  adds,  can  be  expected  of  men  whose 
fee  is  two  francs  ?  I  assent,  and  add  that,  if  I  be  not  better  next 
day,  I  shall  send  for  him  ;  but  as  I  suspect  my  eyes  to  be  sym- 


b  DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 

pathizing  with  an  irritated  stomach,  I  have  been  trying  what 
low  diet  would  do  to  appease  the  hostile  coalition. 

l&th  May.  Rather  better.  Mr.  Ritchie  dines  with  me,  and 
I  venture  to  eat  a  little.  After  dinner  we  take  a  long  drive, 
going  out  of  the  town  at  the  gate  of  Flanders,  and  returning  by 
way  of  the  Allee  Verte,  having  made  the  tour  of  the  Chateau 
and  its  wood,  heard  the  nightingales  singing  in  its  shade,  and 
enjoyed,  altogether,  a  most  enchanting  evening.  Did  not  get 
home  before  9  o'clock.  The  view  of  Brussels,  from  the  road 
that  leads  from  the  great  highway  to  Flanders,  to  the  village  of 
Lacken,  under  so  fine  a  sky,  was  quite  beautiful,  and  one  of  the 
best  I  have  seen  from  the  many  points  I  have  looked  from.  Mr. 
R.  takes  leave,  with  many  thanks. 

Wth  May.  Dine  at  Prince  Auguste's.  Meet  there  two  stran- 
gers,— Mr.  Abercrombie,  Secretary  of  the  British  embassy  at 
Berlin,  and  Lord  Valletort,  eldest  son  of  Lord  Mount-Edgecombe. 
Nothing  particular.  All  the  diplomatic  corps  present,  except  the 
new  attache  to  the  English  legation,  just  arrived,  (who  promises, 
Sir  Robert  assures  me,  smiling,  to  be  a  working,  and  not  a  fish- 
ing, Secretary,)  Mr.  Des  Voeux.     King  arrives  this  evening. 

16th  May.  Dinner  at  Court.  I  sit  on  the  left  of  His  Majesty, 
Lady  Valletort,  who  had  walked  to  dinner  with  Sir  R.  Adair, 
being  on  my  right,  (between  the  king  and  me,)  and  the  barronne 
d'Hoogvorst  (whom  I  had  led  in)  on  my  left.  This  young  Eng- 
lish lady  was,  about  eighteen  months  ago,  a  Miss  somebody, 
daughter  of  a  Captain  in  the  British  navy ;  she  is  now  likely  to 
be  a  Countess,  and  will  grace  her  coronet  with  a  great  deal  of 
beauty  of  a  high  style.  I  talked  with  her  a  little  at  dinner,  and 
found  her,  like  all  the  English,  enthusiastic  about  Italy,  and,  like 
herself,  still  more  so  about  Greece.  Her  hair  was  dressed  a  la 
Grecque,  and  this  charming  simplicity  heightened  the  effect  of 
the  fine  contrast  between  its  own  blackness  and  her  very  white 
cheeks  and  gorge.  She  talked  in  that  low  tone,  and  rather  min- 
cing, precieuse  manner,  which  some  English  think  the  perfec- 
tion of  the  ton.  Short  soiree,  on  account  of  the  queen's  preg- 
nancy, no  doubt. 

Party  at  Mr.  Freke's,  brother  of  Lord  Carberry,  who  has  two 
daughters,  nice,  frank,  good-natured,  lively  Irish  girls,  and  a  son, 
heir-presnmptive  of  a  peerage  and  40,000  a  year,  who  is  both 
deaf  and  dumb.  Yet  he  goes  to  every  ball,  etc.,  dances,  and 
seems  the  happiest  man  in  the  room.  I  am  told  he  has  been 
(and  more  than  once,  I  think)  engaged  to  be  married,  but  con- 
trived to  be  off  when  it  came  to  the  pinch.  Lady  Valletort,  Lady 
Wm.  Paget,  etc.,  but  not  the  Hastings',  who  have  just  lost  a 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 


relation.  Party  numerous,  and  very  English.  Ladies  all  seated 
round  the  principal  salo?i,  looking  at  each  other  with  that  air  of 
uneasy,  though  subdued  and  grave  mutual  distrust,  that  belongs 
to  that  sort  of  armed  neutrality.  It  was  very  warm,  and  so,  as 
I  found  myself  rapidly  becoming  nervous,  I  slunk  away  into  a 
small  apartment  adjoining,  where,  to  my  great  relief,  I  found  a 
window  wide  open,  a  small  society  chattering  and  noisy,  and 
Miss ,  my  special  favorite  and  a  sweet  girl,  sitting  en- 
trenched in  a  corner,  with  an  evident  determination  to  defend 
the  position  to  the  last.  Here  I  established  myself  for  the  eve- 
ning, never  having  plucked  up  courage  enough  to  cross  the  other 
room,  even  to  speak  to  Mrs.  Seymour,  my  most  familiar  acquaint- 
ance here.  Singing  by  Miss  Freke  (very  passable)  and  two 
gentlemen.  Still,  the  dullness  of  the  hour  oppresses  every  body. 
At  length,  things  being  fairly  at  extremities,  a  waltz  or  quadrille, 
to  the  piano-forte,  is  got  up.  I  avail  myself  of  the  first  confu- 
sion to  make  my  escape,  which  I  effect,  without  further  damage, 
about  half- past  11.     Sic  me  servavit  Apollo. 

17th  May.  Having  eaten  a  little  yesterday,  I  am  sensibly 
better  to-day,  for  abstinence  makes  me  ill  for  the  present,  what- 
ever its  ultimate  effects  may  be.  Determine  to  break  my  long 
fast.  Mr.  Serruys,  Vice-Consul  at  Ostend,  comes  in.  Hands 
me  the  commission  of  the  Consul,  and  requests  I  will  get  an 
exequatur.  Tells  me  he  had  seen  the  King  at  Ostend,  and 
heard  him  say,  (nay,  said  he,  His  Majesty  even  addressed  the 
parole  to  me,)  apropos  of  the  projected  rail-road  to  the  Rhine, 
that  the  objections  made  to  the  port  of  Ostend  as  one  of  its  ter- 
mini, had  not  been  answered,  and,  therefore,  were  believed.  Yet 
you  know,  said  the  King  with  a  significant  look,  that  the  press 
is  free,  and  very  free.  Mr.  S.  tells  me,  at  Ghent  the  Orangists 
did  all  they  could  to  insult  and  mortify  Leopold.  Thus,  they 
hired  the  boxes  at  the  theatre  in  front  of  the  royal  box,  and  left 
them  vacant.  On  pretence  of  presenting  him  a  petition,  some 
one  forced  upon  him  a  number  of  a  paper  filled  with  abuse  of 
him  and  the  queen,  etc.,  etc.  But,  at  Ostend  and  other  towns, 
he  found  some  compensation  for  these  outrages.  Apropos  of 
this, — driving  out  this  evening,  Mr.  Seymour,  whom  I  took  up, 
tells  me  that  Capt.  La  Goletterie,  (officier  d'ordonnance,)  a  French 
officer  of  our  acquaintance,  whom  I  met  last  night  at  the  Frekes', 
had  fought  a  duel  yesterday  morning  with  some  malcontent 
here,  in  consequence  of  his  hissing  (the  said  patriot)  at  a  seren- 
ade offered  to  His  Majesty  on  his  return,  by  the  Societe  de  la 
Grande  Harmonic  The  worthy  siffleur  was  not  favored  by 
fortune,  having  been  very  dangerously  wounded  in  the  body. 

Spend  the  evening  at  Mr.  Seymour's.  While  I  am  there,  a 
loud  peal  of  thunder  (for  this  climate)  announces  the  much 
vol.  i. — 2 


10  DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 

desired  probability  or  approach  of  rain,  of  which,  indeed,  a  few 
scattered  drops  do  fall,  but  far  too  few  to  correct  the  dusty- 
drought. 

ISth  May.  Dinner  yesterday  restored  me  a  good^eal.  Take 
a  warm  bath — the  second  this  season — at  2  o'clock,  and  remain 
in  it  half  an  hour.  Dismiss  my  fille-de-quartier, — mistress,  it 
seems,  of  Mr.  Ferrari,  my  valet-de-chambre,  who  does  not  choose 
that  she  shall  be  at  too  much  pains  to  put  the  house  to  rights, 
and  kicks  up  a  tremendous  row  because  the  other  servant  will 
not  put  down  the  stair-case  carpet  until  the  stairs  are  washed 
clean.  He  ought  to  be  sent  off  with  her,  and  shall  soon  follow 
her,  if  he  continue  to  mistake  the  valet  for  the  roi  here. 

19  th  May — Sunday.  Feel  almost  well  to-day.  Walk  in  the 
park  before  breakfast ;  the  fresh  verdure  of  the  foliage,  the  re- 
treat, the  stillness,  broken  by  the  voices  of  numberless  birds, — 
all  delightful. 

Bring  up  this  journal  to  the  present  date.  Write  to  the  Min- 
ister of  Foreign  Affairs  on  the  subject  of  the  Ostend  consulship, 
and  the  "style"  proper  to  be  used  in  addressing  letters  of  notifi- 
cation to  the  President  of  the  United  States  ;  (they  have  gener- 
ally kept  up  that  of  the  old  confederation,  to  "the  President  and 
Congress",  which  is  obviously  wrong).  Read  (my  habit  of  a 
Sunday)  Bossuet's  variations  des  Eglises  Protestantes.  He 
passes  over  Cranmer,  Somerset  &  Co.,  with  tremendous  force : 
all  the  subtlety  of  controversial  dialectics,  combined  with  strong 
downright  sense,  the  sincerity  and  earnestness  of  deep  convic- 
tion, and  the  severe,  masculine,  sublime  simplicity  of  style,  for 
which  that  great  master  is  remarkable.  His  summing  up  of 
Cranmer's  character  and  conduct  is  inimitably  well  done. 

Sally  forth  en  voiture,  and  make  some  calls.  Dine  at  6,  and 
take  an  airing,  after  dinner,  to  my  favorite  resort  in  the  forest, — 
the  sweet  remnant  of  the  haunted  Ardennes.  My  head  was 
particularly  full  of  "As  you  like  it,"  etc,  this  evening.  Return 
at  half-past  8. 

Take  a  walk  :  meet  Mr.  Seymour  and  his  charming  daughter, 
Emily ;  invited  to  go  home  with  them  ;  do  so.  Look  again  at 
her  admirable  sketches.  One  of  the  Last  Supper,  and  another 
of  a  Prince  of  Orange  at  the  head  of  a  troop  of  horse,  struck 
me  as  displaying  talent  of  a  very  high  order.  All  good,  how- 
ever, and  as  I  looked  alternately  at  these  master  -pieces  of  art, 
and  at  the  fair  creature  who  executed  them,  (she  is  little  more 
than  18  now,)  ***** 

While  I  am  there  Gen.  Des  Prez  comes  in,  telling  them  I  had 
informed  him  they  were  usually  at  home  on  Sunday  evenings. 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS.  11 

20th  May.  Resume  Greek;  read  half  the  4th  book  of  the 
Odyssey  before  breakfast.  Take  a  short  walk  ;  find  myself 
quite  well.  Weather  very  cool ;  too  much  so  for  me  to  venture 
to  bathe.  About  1,  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs  calls,  and 
begs  me  to  furnish  him  a  copy  of  the  treaty  lately  negotiated  at 
Washington,  by  and  between  Mr.  Livingston  and  the  Belgian 
envoy,  Mr.  Behr ;  the  one  sent  him  by  the  latter  not  having 
come  to  hand.  Tell  him  that  explains  what  had  puzzled  me 
very  much  hitherto :  viz.,  the  profound  silence  about  it,  and, 
indeed,  the  ignorance  in  which  Mr.  Lebeau,  Minister  of  Justice, 
was,  as  late  as  the  last  time  I  met  him  at  Court. 

Speak  of  the  elections.  Mr.  Goblet  thinks  himself  and  Mr. 
Le  Hon,  (now  Minister  at  Paris.)  in  some  danger  at  Tournay — 
the  Catholics  of  that  city  being  the  exaltes  and  in  opposition.  I 
ask  him  how  exaltes.  He  answers,  by  republican  ideas.  I  ex- 
press (what  I  felt)  my  surprise  at  this,  having  hitherto  supposed 
that  most  of  the  soi-disant  democrats  here  were  fifth-monarchy- 
men,  or  libertines  in  politics,  religion  and  morals,  or,  lastly, 
Orange-men  and  contre-revolutionaires  in  disguise.  I  think, 
with  some  few  exceptions  among  theoretical  men,  especially 
German  and  other  students  and  professors,  such  is  a  pretty  exact 
description  of  the  republican  party  all  over  Europe,  for  whom,  I 
confess,  I  have  no  great  respect. 

Visit  two  or  three  book-shops,  inquiring  after  St.  Croix,  Daru, 
Meyer's  Judicial  Institutions,  Savigny  and  Hugo.  Get  none  of 
them.  At  the  Jew's  Summerhauzen,  taken  with  a  new  edition 
of  the  Institutes,  that  is,  of  the  Corpus  Juris,  of  which  the  first 
livraison  only  is  published  ;  good  edition  in  quarto,  with  copious 
notes,  containing  the  concordance  of  the  law. 

Take  a  long  drive  in  the  evening,  going  round  the  Boulevard, 
and  thence  by  cross  roads  to  the  gate  of  Anderlecht.  View  of 
Brussels  still  better  than  the  one  mentioned  above.  Weather 
delighful.  At  night,  the  whole  air  filled  with  the  musical  chorus 
of  frogs,  which  I  mistook  for  birds  ! 

Invitation  to  dine,  on  the  28th  of  this  month,  with  the  British 
minister,  it  being  H.  B.  Majesty's  birth-day  ;  and  so  we  are  to 
dine  in  their  horrid  straight-jackets,  called  court-dress. 

2lst  May.  Read  the  Odyssey,  on  waking,  etc.  Day  passed 
as  usual.  No  event.  At  7,  take  a  drive,  and  more  than  ever 
charmed  with  the  beauty  of  the  earth,  and  the  brightness  and 
sweet  temperature  of  the  heavens.  Pass  the  voiture  of  Madame 
la  Contesse  de  Merode  (Henri),  who  stops  to  walk  through  a 
by-path,  leading  along  a  wood  of  Mr.  Mosselman's,  on  the  cote, 
out  of  the  Porte  de  Hal.  Asks  me  how  I  like  their  country. 
Tell  them  excessively,  and  that  I  often  visit  these  enchanted 


12  DIARY  OP  BRUSSELS. 

solitudes.  Think  this  the  prettiest  drive  of  all.  Not  dark  until 
half-past  9,  and  a  new  moon  promises  still  sweeter  evenings. 

22d  May.  Write  to  Mr.  Patterson,  consul  at  Antwerp.  Re, 
ceive  a  note  from  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs.  Invited  to 
dine  at  Court  to-morrow.  Go  to  Summerhauzen's  libraire  :  gives 
me  the  card  of  a  teacher  of  German.  Dine  at  Prince  Auguste's. 
Meet  there  Sir  Robt.  Adair  and  his  new  attache,  Mr.  Des  Voeux, 

(whom  I  had  not  seen  before,)  M.  de  Baillet,  M.  de ,  Percy 

Doyle,  attache  to  the  English  legation,  Lady  Win.  Paget,  (look- 
ing very  pretty),  and  her  mother,  Lady  de  Rottenburg,  M.  Pe- 
rier, — afterwards,  (the  Prince,  who  is  usually  exact  to  a  minute, 
was  becoming  impatient,)  the  Earl  and  Countess  of  Stanhope 
come  in.  At  dinner,  Mr.  Des  Voeux  is  beside  me.  Talkative 
and  amiable ;  has  been  in  Germany,  and  learned  its  language 
and  literature ;  is  rather  scholastic.  In  the  course  of  conversa- 
tion, tells  me  we  are  making  in  America  a  new  experiment, — 
viz :  a  republic  without  slaves.  I  ask  him,  if  he  has  ever  seen 
that  idea  in  print.  He  says  not,  and  that  it  has  just  occurred  to 
him.  I  reply  that  my  reason  for  asking  was  that  I  had  often 
and  often  reflected  on  it  in  all  its  bearings,  and  but  lately  had  a 
long  conversation  upon  it  with  an  intelligent  and  interesting 
young  Polish  exile,  Count  Zamoiska,  (nephew  of  Prince  Czar- 
torisky,)  and  I  had  often  wondered  that  no  one  had  ever  (to  my 
knowledge)  dwelt  upon  and  developed  it,  among  the  thousand 
and  one  speculations  which  these  later  times  have  produced  in 
what  is  called  political  philosophy.  Seems  struck  with  what  I 
say.  After  dinner,  the  Prince's  Savoyard  pensioners  play  and 
dance  in  the  street,  which  draws  us  all  to  the  window.  While 
I  am  there,  the  Prince  brings  Lord  Stanhope  to  me  and  intro- 
duces him.  Long  conversation  on  politics ;  not  knowing  his 
politics,  my  share  of  it  rather  political, — that  is  to  say,  with  a 
double  aspect.  The  Prince  at  length  (in  his  way)  conies  up  with 
his  hat  on.  I  ask  him  if  he  is  going  to  the  theatre,  (of  which 
he  is  a  constant  attendant.)  Answers  negatively,  for  they  give 
Hamlet  in  English,  which  is  Greek  to  him.  Says  he  is  going 
to  "carry  off"  (enlever)  Lady  Stanhope.  What  will  you  do,  says 
he  to  my  lord.  On  some  indecisive  answer  being  given,  I  pro- 
pose to  his  lordship  to  take  a  drive  with  me,  which  he  agrees  to. 
Go  to  the  Allee  Verte,  and  thence  round  the  Chateau  of  Lacken. 
Find  him  extremely  talkative, — engrossed  with  the  politics  of 
England,  whose  situation  he  thinks  imminently,  nay  desperately, 
perilous.  Soon  find  out  he  is  neither  whig  nor  tori/,  (mistake  : 
he  was  an  ultra  tory,  turned  jacobin,  verbo  tenus,  from  despite,) 
but  a  believer  in  an  approaching  English  republic,  and  a  root 
and  branch  reformer,  bien  entendu,   however,  after  his  own 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS.  13 

fashion.  On  my  suggesting  that  the  financial  difficulties  of 
England  were  rather  embarrassing  in  a  moral  than  a  material 
(French  sense)  point  of  view,  and  that  spunging  half  the  national 
debt,  if  it  were  excused  by  an  over-ruling  necessity,  would  not 
be  fatal  to  her  prosperity,  he  dissents,  and  lets  me  into  his  sys- 
tem (for  he  is  an  homme  a  systeme).  This  is  to  increase  the 
circulating  medium.  I  tell  him  that  the  only  difference  between 
his  plan  and  mine  is  that  I  candidly  confiscate  half  the  capital, 
and  he  secretly  destroys  its  value  to  the  same  amount,  by  paying 
the  interest  in  a  nominal  instead  of  a  real  value.  He  answers 
that  if  there  is  plenty  of  money  there  will  be  plenty  of  work, 
and  the  operatives  will  have  something  more  innocent  to  occupy 
them  than  schemes,  as  Gil  Bias'  heroes  express  it,  of  living  at 
the  expense  of  their  neighbors  without  their  consent, — whereas 
to  destroy  the  capital  in  any  way  would  augment  the  distress. 
He  has  written  about  it,  and  had  conversations  and  correspond- 
ence with  Mr.  Attwood  of  Birmingham,  and  so  there  is  no  hope 
of  him. 

Finding  him  talkative,  I  do  all  I  can  to  bring  him  out  fully, 
and  succeed.  After  taking  a  very  long  drive,  I  ask  him  if  he 
wishes  to  be  set  down  any  where  particularly.  Tells  me  no, 
and  asks  me  if  I  am  engaged.  Answer  no,  and  add  that  I  should 
be  glad  he  would  go  in  with  me  to  my  house, — which  he  does, 
and  remains  until  10  o'clock.  I  had,  thus,  a  conversation  of 
three  hours  with  him,  which  was  very  interesting  to  me,  for  it 
consisted  of  a  collection  of  curious  little  reminiscences  and  anec- 
dotes,— the  tittle-tattle  of  high  English  circles, — which  I  have 
never  had  so  good  an  opportunity  of  hearing. 

He  tells  me  Lord  Grey  is  troubled  ever  and  anon  with  a 
fearful  vision, — like  Macbeth's  dagger  and  Banquo's  ghost.  He 
sees  the  decollated  head  of  Brissot,  (horresco  referens,)  with 
gouts  of  blood  dropping  from  it,  as  if  warm  from  the  knife  of 
the  guillotine.  The  first  time  this  horrible  phantom  presented 
itself  to  him,  it  seems,  was  when  he  was  making  a  speech  on 
the  Reform  Bill.  He  was  heard  by  some  near  him  to  say,  there  it 
is  !  then  burst  into  tears,  and  sat  down.  The  fear  of  encountering 
this  phantom  has  made  him  change  his  position  in  the  house  of 
lords,  cover  his  eyes  with  his  hands,  etc.,  etc.  I  tell  him,  it  is 
downright  monomania,  and  wonder  I  had  never  heard  of  it  be- 
fore. Was  it  never  put  into  the  papers,  where  every  thing  goes 
in  these  times  ?  He  says  it  was ;  but  why  was  it  not  circulated  1 

Lord  Grey,  he  thinks,  (and  says  both  Wellington  and  Talley- 
rand say  so,  too.)  is  a  good  speaker,  but  not  an  able  statesman  ; 
and  that  he  heard  a  grave  man,  and  a  man  of  substance,  who 
had  backed  him  in  the  reform,  say,  recently,  that  his  Premier- 
ship would  soon  be  the  most  unpopular  man  in  England,  and 
that  he  would  end  at  the  lamp-post ! 


14  DIARY  OP  BRUSSELS. 

Lord  Carnaervon  (lately  deceased)  told  Lord  Grey,  in  a  speech 
full  of  power,  that  he  would  be  the  Neckar  of  the  Revolution, 
unless  he  became  its  Robespierre. 

By  way  of  illustrating  the  panic  that  prevails  in  England  at 
present,  tells  me  that  Lord  Hertford,  one  of  the  richest  men  in 
the  kingdom,  whom  I  met  at  Court  here,  six  months  ago,  on  his 
way  to  Naples,  foreseeing  the  storm,  had  invested  £500,000  in 
American  stocks,  and  bought  a  Palazzo  at  Naples,  and,  it  is 
said,  never  means  to  return  to  England.  Lord  S.  himself  assures 
me,  he  does  not  think  a  revolution  six  months  off,  and  that  they 
will  attempt  to  set  up  a  republic.  The  present  set,  he  says,  are 
losing  all  their  popularity,  and  must  be  succeeded  by  radicals ; 
for  Wellington  positively  refuses  to  come  in.  I  ask  him  what 
the  Duke  thinks  of  the  situation  of  the  country.  As  ill  as  pos- 
sible, says  he ;  and,  to  another  question  of  mine,  he  replies  that 
Wellington's  opinion  is  founded  not  on  the  character  of  the  ad- 
ministration, but  of  the  crisis. 

Lord  Grey,  he  tells  me,  in  spite,  or,  perhaps,  in  consequence, 
of  the  above-mentioned  vision  "of  the  gory  locks",  (raw  head 
and  bloody  bones,)  is  making  himself  very  ridiculous  with  the 
women,  to  whom  he  indites  sonnets  and  billets-doux,  at  the  age 
of  three-score  and  thirteen  or  so  !  One  of  the  latter  he  addressed 
to  Lady  Lyndhurst,  who  threatens  to  publish  ! 

Remarks  that  the  conduct  of  the  King,  in  regard  to  the  Re- 
form bill,  was  as  weak  and  insincere  as  that  of  the  King  of 
France  in  relation  to  the  Constitution  ;  and  his  practices  with 
the  Tory  party  of  a  piece,  in  all  respects,  with  the  flight  to  Va- 
rennes.  Says  he  is  a  very  impracticable,  foolish  man  ;  not  at 
all  sensible  of  the  state  of  things  in  England  until  lately,  but 
now  frightened  ;  but  refuses  to  hear  officious  advice,  because  he 
feels  bound  to  be  bound  by  official.  Tells  me  that,  some  time 
ago,  one  of  the  royal  bastards  (Lord  Frederick,  I  think)  laid  a 
wager  there  would  be  a  republic  in  three  years.  He  (Lord  S.) 
had  told  another,  whom  he  frequently  sees  at  Club,  that  his 
royal  papa  had  done  a  foolish  thing  to  alienate  from  himself  the 
affections  of  the  people  of  Hanover,  for  now  he  would  have  no 
refuge  when  he  should  have  to  fly — as  fly  he  must,  or  run — 
["and  they  that  run,  and  they  that  fly,  must  end  where  they  be- 
gan", L.]— from  republican  England.  The  king  lately  had  the 
mortification  to  see  two  professed  republicans  elected  under  his 
very  nose  at  Brighton,  and,  that  his  "disgrace  might  want  no 
brightening  and  burnishing''',  elected  over  two  naval  candi- 
dates, whom  ureform  Bill"  wanted  to  get  in,  as  he  always  sticks 
to  the  button.  Another  thing  shocked  the  nerves  of  his  majesty  : 
a  head,  not  unreal,  like  Lord  Grey's  Brissot,  but  a  hard,  bond 
fide  English  cranium,  unceremoniously  thrust  into  the  window 
of  the  royal  carriage,   with  the  ominous  interrogatory  issuing 


DIARY  OP  BRUSSELS.  15 

from  its  mouth,  "What  are  you  doing  here  ?  get  about  your  busi- 
ness, and  give  way  to  the  Duke  of  Sussex/'  The  Duke  of 
Glo'ster  is  an  acknowledged  fool :  they  call  him  Silly  Billy. 
When  the  king  was  going  down  to  dissolve  the  Parliament,  he 
was  in  such  a  hurry  to  do  it,  that  he  said  if  they  did  not  get  a 
state-carriage  ready  in  time,  he  would  go  in  a  hack.  However, 
he  was  not  reduced  to  this  unseemly  necessity  ;  but  as  he  was 
going  off,  Glo'ster,  who  was  looking  out  of  a  window  in  the 
palace,  cries  out,  "Who  is  Silly  Billy  now?" 

After  we  got  to  my  house,  (which  my  guest  admired,  comme 
de  raison,)  I  thought  it  time  to  be  not  semper  auditor ;  but  still 
contrived  what  I  said  so  as  to  get  all  I  could  out  of  his  lordship. 
I  ought  to  add,  that  he  has  been  a  great  deal  in  all  parts  of  Ger- 
many, which  he  likes  very  much,  and  which  he  represents  as 
being  all  instinct  with  the  elements  of  convulsion.  Says  he 
knows  Metternich  wrote  a  letter  to  somebody  (perhaps  the  am- 
bassador) in  England,  full  of  the  gloomiest  forebodings  ;  and 
apropos  of  forebodings  and  ambassadors,  H.  M.  Reform  Bill, 
speaking,  one  day,  with  the  Russian  minister,  of  the  state  of  affairs 
in  Turkey,  remarked,  with  great  pomp,  "Yes,  it  must  be  owned, 
the  Sultan  is  in  a  most  critical  situation."  "I  wish,"  rejoined 
the  diplomate,  "he  were  the  only  sovereign  in  Europe  that  was." 
At  the  which  the  other  made  rather  a  wry  face. 

To  some  remark  of  mine  on  the  disposition  of  revolutions 
(Saiurnia  regna,  with  a  vengeance)  to  eat  up  their  own  child- 
ren, [Ney,  Vergniaud,]  as  Danton,  on  his  way  to  the  guillotine, 
expressed  it ;  he  said  it  was  strikingly  illustrated  by  the  Cato- 
street  conspiracy.  "Who  do  you  suppose  were  to  be  the  second 
class  of  victims?"  Hunt,  Cobbet,  Cartwright  &  Co.;  the  very 
men  who  hoped  to  profit  most  by  a  revolution,  and,  therefore, 
were  marked  out  as  stumbling-blocks  to  be  removed  by  their 
understrappers.  This,  his  lordship  said,  he  knew  from  a  secret 
but  perfectly  unquestionable  source,  and  thinking  it  might  cool 
Gobbet's  ardor  to  inform  him  of  it,  he  had  done  so  through  a 
third  person  ;  but  the  reformer  only  answered,  he  knew  the  peril 
and  was  willing  to  encounter  it.     Occidat  dum  regnet. 

I  begin  to  think  seriously  of  the  times  ;  the  wax  lights  burn 
blue,  as  from  a  ghost  story, — and  it  comes  to  that.  For  prophe- 
cies are  repeated,  and,  among  the  rest,  those  of  old  Nixon,  (not 
Nick,)  who  lived  under  Harry  8th,  or  thereabouts, — which  are 
very  strange.  These  said  dark  sayings  were  committed  to  a 
book,  now  in  the  possession  of  a  great  house,  which  treats  them 
as  the  disinterred  relic  of  Numa  was  treated  at  Rome, — they  are 
deposited  in  a  chest  and  walled  up  ;  but  they  were  formerly 
better  known,  and  some  fragments  of  their  Delphic  import  are 
still  remembered. 

It  is  10  o'clock  at  night.     Lord  Stanhope,  perceiving  a  thief 


16  DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 

in  one  of  the  lights,  gets  up  and  takes  it  out.  He  then  takes  his 
leave,  shaking  me  by  the  hand,  and  expressing  his  happiness  at 
having  this  opportunity  to  converse  with  me. 

When  he  is  gone,  I  say  to  myself,  you  must  be  the  brother  (of 
the  whole  blood)  of  the  eccentric  Lady  Esther  Stanhope ;  and 
are,  doubtless,  a  little  "cracked",  north-north-west  or  so.  Yet  it 
may  be  as  the  German  author  has  it,  mad  but  wise,  for  he  is 
decidedly  clever. 

23d  May.  Rise  as  usual.  Weather  delicious.  While  I  am 
writing  my  notes  of  yesterday's  conversation,  my  servant  an- 
nounces Earl  Stanhope.  Shows  him  up  to  the  salon,  where  1 
soon  present  myself  in  slippers,  etc.  Asks  me  if  I  have  heard, 
by  the  courier  to-day,  what  was  the  verdict  of  the  inquest  touch- 
ing the  killing  of  a  police  officer  or  two,  in  a  late  row  at  Cold- 
Bath-Fields,  of  which  we  had  spoken  the  day  before ;  (I  had 
laid  immense  stress  on  the  result  of  the  proceeding).  I  tell  him 
no  (;  but,  by  the  evening  papers  of  to-day,  find  that  the  jury 
thought  the  homicide  excusable,  or,  as  they  express  it,  justifiable). 
Talks  again  of  the  fearful  state  of  England;  thinks  the  present 
race  of  Englishmen  effeminate,  may-be  owing  to  vaccination — 
de-Jenner-ated.  This  he  said  in  reference  to  Lord  Valletort, 
whose  deplorable  ill-health  I  mentioned  as  especially  so,  consid- 
ering the  beauty  of  his  young  wife.  He  is  a  stupid  fellow,  says 
Lord  S.,  and  like  the  rest  of  them,  as  weak  in  body  as  in  mind, 
blase,  etc.  He  was  one  of  those  whose  family  interest  gave  him 
a  seat  in  Parliament,  but  whom  the  Reform  Bill  ferreted  ow^and 
sent  upon  their  travels.  As  to  Reform,  of  which  we  had  spoken 
very  often,  I  don't  exactly  know  what  my  guest  now  thinks.  He 
voted  for  it,  but  when  I  told  him  it  always  struck  me,  and,  in- 
deed, all  thinking  men  in  America,  as  a  complete  revolution,  and 
Lord  Grey's  threat  of  creating  sixty  peers  to  carry  it,  as  a  glaring 
abuse  of  the  prerogative,  and  a  death-blow  to  one  of  the  nominal 
estates  of  the  realm,  he  fully  assented.  But  this  all  the  English 
I  have  met  with  do, — Sir  Robert  Adair,  the  whig  par  excellence 
included, — and  Lord  Stanhope  told  me  he  was  of  neither  party. 
I  shall  refer  this  difficulty  to  Sir  Robert,  the  first  time  I  see  him. 
This  by-the-bye.  I  point  to  Sir  J.  C.  Hobhouse's  defeat  as  con- 
clusive, and  a  most  remarkable  exemplification  of  the  change, 
and  tell  them  that  this  very  month,  perhaps  day,  last  year,  I 
had  a  conversation  to  the  same  effect  with  the  brother  of  Sir 
John,  whom  I  met  with  in  Carolina.  At  that  time  I  did  not 
exactly  foresee  the  speedy  execution  of  the  poetical  justice,  by 
which  the  rather  demagogic  member  for  Westminster  was  des- 
tined (like  some  other  inventors  of  instruments  to  promote  the 
commonweal)  to  be  the  very  first  victim  of  his  own  arts.  Yes, 
says  he,  and  that  is  so  true,  that  to  this  day  the  ministry  can  get 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS.  17 

no  member  of  the  Commons  to  accept  the  vacant  Secretaryship 
of  Ireland,  for  fear  of  not  being  re-elected  by  the  constituency 
he  has  created  !!  And  yet  this  total  alteration  of  the  whole  frame 
of  ministerial  power  and  proceeding  is  only  a  reform  ! 

Tells  me  he  is  struck  with  my  (or  rather  Bacon's)  remark, 
yesterday,  about  the  rebellions  of  the  belly  being  the  worst.  He 
has  seen,  before,  tremendous  excitements  in  England,  but,  not 
being  prompted  by  the  malesuada  fames, — so  persuasive,  in- 
deed, that,  where  it  has  once  established  itself,  the  proverb  tells 
us,  the  empty  premises,  thus  occupied,  have  no  ear  for  any  thing 
else, — they  passed  away  like  the  effects  of  a  drinking  bout. 
Look  at  the  trial  of  the  queen,  for  instance, — what  an  uproar, 
and  yet,  soon  after,  her  backers  were  the  jest  and  scorn  of  lam- 
pooners and  caricaturists.  I  remark  that  the  juncture,  just  after 
the  glorious  peace,  when  a  momentary  reaction  against  revolu- 
tions made  kings  really  great  men,  etc.,  etc.,  was  very  different 
from  this  era  of  Jacobinical  scepticism,  irreverence  and  audacity. 

After  a  conversation  of  three  quarters  of  an  hour,  (in  which 
I  talked  a  good  deal,  and  especially  about  the  importance  of  the 
verdict  on  the  unfortunate  affair  of  the  Cold-Bath-Fields,)  Lord 
Stanhope  takes  his  leave.  I  ask  him  if  I  shall  see  him  at  Court 
to-day.  Replies  in  the  negative  ;  as  he  leaves  Brussels  to-morrow, 
had  not  taken  any  means  to  inform  the  Court  of  his  and  Lady 
S's.  arrival. 

Not  long  after  he  is  gone,  comes  in  Lt.  Col.  Jeffreys,  or  Jeffers, 
a  West-India  proprietor,  who  had  called  on  me  repeatedly  before, 
to  attest  powers  of  attorney,  etc.  Tells  me  he  is  come,  this 
time,  to  take  some  renseignemens  about  the  United  States,  to 
which  he  has  made  up  his  mind  to  emigrate.  That  he  has  no 
hope  of  Europe,  and,  as  a  West-Indian,  very  little  feeling  of 
amor  patriot  for  England.  We  talk  of  the  state  of  things  in 
that  kingdom.  Confirms  the  gloomy  representation  of  Lord 
Stanhope  (,  who  told  me  it  was  the  hardest  thing  in  the  world  to 
let  a  farm  in  his  part  of  England,  and  that  he  expected  soon  that 
the  middling  classes  would  refuse  to  pay  taxes,  and  let  their 
property  be  seized,  in  the  confident  expectation  that  nobody 
would  buy  it).  Instances  it  in  a  friend  of  his, — a  country  gen- 
tleman, whose  rent-roll,  ten  years  ago,  was  £16,000  a  year,  fox- 
hunter,  etc., — that  he  has  lately  written  to  him  to  beg  him,  if  he 
go  to  America,  to  let  him  know,  for  he,  too,  is  in  great  terror,  and 
would  fain  save  a  tabula  in  naufragio.  Col.  Jeffers  tells  me, 
besides  his  West-India  cidevant  property,  he  can  scrape  together 
23  or  £24,000,  of  which  a  good  deal  is  in  American  stocks  now. 
I  lend  him  a  number  of  the  Southern  Review,  containing  an 
article  on  Flint's  Yalley  of  the  Mississippi ;  and  advise  him  not 
to  be  in  too  great  a  hurry  to  lay  out  his  capital  and  establish  his 
vol.  i. — 3 


18  DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 

family,  after  he  shall  arrive  in  the  United  States.  Advise  him, 
by  all  means  to  go  ;  that  it  is  the  only  country  which  has  an 
ave?iir,  and  the  world  might  well  be  divided  thus, — Europe  for 
bachelors  and  their  suite  ;  America  for  family  men  and  theirs. 

Not  a. — Tells  me  Mr.  Wilberforce  had  a  West-Tndia  estate 
which  he  sold, — that  he  might,  with  washed  hands,  attack  the 
title  he  had  transferred  to  some  less  cunning,  but,  at  the  same 
time,  J  suppose,  less  holy  purchaser. 

By-the-bye,  I  had  talked  much  to  Lord  Stanhope,  this  morning, 
about  the  humbug  of  that  question,  which  I  am  satisfied  has 
been,  in  all  its  bearings,  most  superficially  considered  by  our 
modern  philosophers.  I  was  touching  upon  the  subject,  the  other 
day,  in  a  conversation  with  the  Count  de  Robiano,  who  told  me 
the  same  views  were  now  in  a  course  of  expounding  by  a  French 
professor,  whose  pamphlets  he  has  sent  me  (two)  as  they  came 
out.  His  name  is  De  Koux,  or  something  like  that,  for  I  attended 
more  to  the  book  than  its  cover. 

Dine  at  Court.  Take  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Seymour  there  in  my 
carriage.  None  of  the  corps  diplomatique  but  M.  Perier  and 
myself.  His  S.  H.  the  Prince  de  Reuss  Lobenstein  and  the 
Duke  d'Arenberg  dine  there  ;  also,  Lady  Hastings,  with  Lady 
Flora  and  Lady  Selina,  who  come  in  later  after  the  Majesties. 
Grand-Marshal  tells  me  to  give  my  arm  to  Lady  Flora  :  did  he 
know  what  an  inexpressible  favor  he  was  doing  me  l  Helas  ! 
I  placed  her  beside  me,  by  way  of  a  return  for  his  kindness,  and 
never  was  I  happier  at  a  dinner  party  than  I  was  at  this, — enjoy- 
ing, as  I  did,  the  charming  conversation  of  this  beau-ideal  of  a 
high-born,  accomplished  and  most  amiable  English  lady.  Tell 
her  I  have  heard  the  nightingale,  and  been  disappointed, — sings 
certainly  with  sweetness  and  at  a  witching  time, — but,  when  I 
heard  him  first,  I  had  my  imagination  excited  by  the  whole  in- 
spired tribe,  especially  Milton  and  Sophocles,  (CEdipus  Coloneus,) 
and  so  the  reality  was,  or  seemed,  a  failure.  I  told  her  the 
mocking-bird  (I  call  him  the  "Rossini  of  birds",  for  the  royal 
band  were  at  that  moment  performing  a  beautiful  piece  from 
William  Tell,)  sings  with  an  infinitely  more  brilliant  and  abun- 
dant music,  through  many  a  winding  bout  of  linked  sweetness, 
etc.,  etc.  Talked,  also,  of  Bryant's  poetry, — another  wild-bird 
of  my  country, — whose  touching  natural  notes  had  awakened 
her  pure  sensibilities,  and  won  her  precious  admiration,  and,  1 
suppose,  love, — for  do  women  ever  admire  without  more  or  less 
of  love  l 

Her  majesty  looking  extremely  well,  and  promising  a  speedy 
accession  to  the  royal  house.  After  dinner,  approach  the  circle 
of  ladies.  The  Duchess  d'Arenberg  (very  pregnant  also,  and, 
therefore,  happy,  for  there  never  was  a  creature  more  devoted  to 
her  offspring,)  on  the  right,  and  the  Marchioness  of  Hastings  on 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS.  19 

the  left  of  the  queen.  Speak  to  H.  M.  Tell  her  I  have  received 
a  letter  from  Mrs.  Rives,  begging  me  to  express  the  high  gratifi- 
cation it  gave  her  to  be  remembered,  with  so  much  kindness,  by 
H.  M.  The  queen  seems  very  much  pleased,  and  tells  me  not 
to  fail  to  communicate  her  satisfaction  to  Mrs.  R.  I  add,  as  a 
proof  of  Mrs.  R's.  affectionate  remembrance  of  H.  M.,  that  she 
had  named  her  only  daughter,  an  infant,  (of  whose  svjeet  blue 
eyes,  I  say  par  parenthese,  she  speaks  with  all  the  fond  rapture 
of  a  mother,)  Amelie- Louise.  Yes,  said  EL  M.;  my  mother  wrote 
me  word  to  that  effect,  and  I  am  told  the  child  resembles  me. 
Conversation  becomes  more  general,  and  I  give  way  to  M.  Perier. 
Talk  with  Lady  Hastings.  Thanks  me  for  the  fine  flowers  I 
sent  her  the  other  day  out  of  my  pretty  little  garden,  etc.,  etc. 
In  the  course  of  the  conversation,  I  mention  that  Lord  Stanhope 
has  been  a  good  deal  with  me,  and  given  me  a  fearful  account 
of  the  state  of  things  in  England ;  that  he  seemed  to  think  a 
revolution  inevitable  and  impending.  He  is  not  by  any  means 
singular  in  that  opinion,  said  she ;  I  was  thinking  of  buying  a 
house  in  town,  and  a  person  of  cool,  sober  judgment  in  affairs, 
advised  me  to  wait  for  events,  etc.,  etc.  By  the  way,  Lord  Stan- 
hope mentioned,  to  shew  how  distressed  people  were  in  England, 
and,  in  consequence,  how  the  expensive  pleasures  of  London 
were  beginning  to  be  shunned,  that  some  tradesman  informed 
him  he  had,  on  a  single  article,  of  no  sort  of  importance,  (I  for- 
get what,)  sold  £600  less  than  last  year.  Letter  from  Harry 
Cruger,  and  some  newspapers. 

Bad  news  from  the  Electoral  College.  The  Minister  of  For- 
eign Affairs  (Goblet)  beaten  at  Courtrai ;  the  Minister  of  Justice 
(Lebeau)  at  Hay.  En  revanche,  Holland  has  agreed  to  an  in- 
definite armistice,  and  the  provisional  liberty  of  the  rivers. 

2£ih  May.  Nothing  remarkable  ;  stretched  off  on  a  sofa  to- 
day in  the  salle-a-manger,  while  my  valet-de-charnbre  reads  to 
me  the  preface  and  Erminier's  Philosophy  of  Law ;  and  a  sooth- 
ing air  breathing  all  the  sweets  of  my  little  garden,  and  whis- 
pering in  my  ear  where  he  stole  them.  I  determined  to  let  my 
friends  in  America  know  how  well  I  am  learning  to  do  without 
them,  and  to  paint  in  the  most  glowing  colors  the  charms  of  the 
elegant  epicurean  existence  I  am  leading  here. 

25th  May.  Invited  this  morning  to  dine  with  Prince  Auguste 
at  half-past  4.  What  can  that  mean  ?  Go  there  at  the  appoint- 
ed hour,  and  see  nobody  there  but  the  Marquis  de  Jumelle.  Af- 
terwards Percy  Doyle  comes  in.  Prince  tells  me  we  shall  be 
en  petit  comite,  and  he  had  invited  us  early  to  have  the  pleasure 
of  a  longer  conversation.  Soon  after  the  Seymours  come  in, — 
Emily  looking  beautifully.    The  Prince  shows  her  the  new 


20  DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 

catalogue  which  he  has  had  printed  of  his  very  fine  collection 
of  paintings.  Her  name  is  there,  for  the  Little  Savoyard, — her 
first  essay  in  oil.  and  a  very  remarkable  performance  as  such. 
Dinner  lasts  only  an  hour.  After  it,  Mr.  Seymour  asks  the  Prince 
to  let  him  see  "the  letter  of  Madame  de  Stael."  I  ask,  what 
letter?  We  are  told  where  to  find  it  in  the  cabinet  de  livres.  I 
follow  the  Seymours  through  a  suite  of  rooms  into  the  said  cabi- 
net, which  1  find  most  admirably  contrived  for  study, — silent, 
sequestered,  spacious,  having  a  single  window,  which  looks  over 
a  plot  of  green  turf  upon  the  Boulevard  near  my  house,  and 
perfectly  well  lighted  from  above.  The  letter  of  Mad.  de  Stael, 
sealed  to,  I  forget  what  book, — her  own  Germany,  perhaps, — is 
produced  and  deciphered,  sometimes  one  of  us,  sometimes  ano- 
ther, finding  out  the  word.  It  is  dated  at  Vienna,  and  is  full  of 
gratitude  to  the  Prince  for  the  kind  attentions  he  had  shown  a 
poor  exiled,  wandering  woman.  It  is  well  turned, — not  remark- 
able,— even  the  hand-writing,  though  obscure  enough,  not  de- 
cided. After  we  return  to  the  salon,  the  Prince  asks  me  if  I  read 
the  inscription  upon  the  door  of  his  cabinet.  Having  answered 
negatively,  I  am  requested  to  do  so.  I  go,  and  find  four  very 
well-turned  French  verses,  as  follows  I  think: 

Ici  je  suis  seul,  sans  etre  solitaire, 

Et  toujours  orcnpe'  sans  jamais  rifcn  faire 

****** 

*  *  *        et  je  commande  en  roi. 

The  Prince  expresses  a  wish  to  become  acquainted  with  Lady 
Hastings,  and  requests  his  reigning  favorite,  (when  Hamilton  is 
not  there,)  Emily  Seymour,  to  menager  an  opportunity  for  him, 
though,  he  adds,  I  am  almost  afraid  to  offer  my  modest  hospi- 
tality to  one  accustomed  to  so  much  magnificence.  After  dinner 
we  all  drive  in  the  Alice  Verte. 

26th  May, — Sunday.  Determine  to  attend  divine  service,  to- 
day, at  Mr.  Drury's  church,  where  I  have  a  pew,  which,  on 
account  of  the  extreme  uncomfortableness  of  the  building,  1 
have  not  visited  for  some  months.  Beadle's  wife  not  there  ;  a 
little  girl  asks  me  if  I  want  a  seat.  Tell  her  I  have  one,  and 
follow  two  persons,  who,  to  my  astonishment,  are  shown  into 
my  pew,  where  a  stout  unknown  is  already  installed.  Church 
very  full.  I  am  horrified,  and  tell  the  child  the  mischief  she 
has  done.  Retreat  precipitately,  and,  declining  her  offer  to  place 
me  elsewhere,  return  home.  As  I  pass,  get  a  bundle  of  Wash- 
ington papers  at  the  British  embassy,  brought  from  the  charge* 
oVaffaires  at  London,  by  the  courier  of  to-day.  Nothing  but 
trash.  While  I  am  writing  these  lines,  Mr.  Drury  is  announced. 
Makes  a  thousand  apologies  for  the  contretemps,  which  he  ex- 
plains by  the  lying-in  of  the  beadle's  wife.  I  tell  him  I  deserved 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS.  21 

it  for  my  long  course  of  sins  of  omission, — prescription  had 
fairly  run  against  me.  Says  he  saw  me,  but  as  he  was  reading 
prayers  there  was  no  help  for  it, — though  Dr.  Parr  used,  in  simi- 
lar circumstances,  to  call  out,  "John,  show  the  gentleman  into 
No.  7  or  10,"  etc.  But  tie,  says  Mr.  D.,  was  called  bishop, — a 
title  which  he  declined  as  insufficient,  saying-,  "They  say  I  am  a 
bithshop,  (he  lisped,)  but  by  God !  I  am  a  pope  /"  Mr.  D.  says 
they  (those  who  live  on  what  others  spend,  the  ^oXXoi)  are  de- 
lighted with  the  news  of  the  preliminary  treaty  just  signed  at 
liOndon,  and  announced  in  the  papers  of  to-day.  (Sunday,  tho', 
remark,  it  being  the  festival  of  Pentecost,  we  shall  have  no 
journals  to-morrow.)  Talks  a  good  deal  of  the  old  Court, — the 
popular  (almost  too  popular)  manners  of  the  Prince  of  Orange, 
contrasted  with  the  cold  and  rather  sombre  gravity  of  the  pre- 
sent king,  who,  he  says,  was  very  unpopular  in  England.  I 
ask,  on  account  of  his  reputed  stinginess?  O  yes,  says  Mr.  D., 
they  tell  all  sorts  of  stories  about  his  selling  his  rabbits,  etc.,  etc. 
Thinks  his  popularity  here  hurt,  by  having  two  men  so  odious 
as  Count  d'Aerschot  (Grand  Marshal)  and  Marquis  de  Chateler 
(Grand  Equerry)  about  him.  I  mention  that  the  Court  is  more 
stately  by  far  than  that  of  Prance.  He  says  it  is,  then,  striking- 
ly contrasted  with  that  of  William  IV.,  {Reform  Bill,)  whom  he 
describes  as  having  introduced  the  freedom  of  the  navy  into  the 
palace.  But,  say  I,  he  goes  too  far  the  other  way  ;  he  is  always 
saying  something  foolish  and  ludicrous, — and  I  was  going  to 
mention  what  Lord  S.  told  me,  that,  at  a  late  Court  dinner,  the 
American  minister  being  present,  he  proposed  as  a  toast  Wash- 
ington (as  the  first  of  men),  adding,  I  wish  I  myself  had  been 
born  in  America, — and  so,  said  Lord  S.,  do  many  ol  his  subjects !! 
Find  myself  embarrassed  with  an  odd  difficulty.  When  Mr. 
Davezac  was  here,  he  told  me  he  wished  to  present  to  me  a  cer- 
tain quidam,  whom  he  described  as  a  correspondent  of  the 
newspapers.  God  forbid,  said  I, — the  last  acquaintance  in  this 
world  I  should  like  to  make.  And  there,  as  I  thought,  was  an 
end  of  the  matter.     But  when  are  sinners  safe  !     Yesterday,  a 

card  is  sent  me  with  this  inscription :  "Mr. rp##*#****^  me 

de  la  regence,  No.  2S,  (de  la  part  de  M.  Davezac)."  I  ask  my 
footman  who  brought  it.  The  person  had  delivered  it  and  in- 
stantly retreated.  I  thought  it  might  be  some  young  American, 
for  some  of  them  have  sent  me  their  cards  en  passant, — God 
knows  with  what  secret  purpose  of  their  own.  However,  I  am 
puzzled  by  the  address,  there  being  no  public  diversorium,  to 
my  knowledge,  in  the  Rue  de  la  Regence.  I  ask  Mr.  Seymour, 
at  dinner,  if  he  knows  of  any  such  person  among  the  English 
here.  No.  On  my  return  home,  my  valet-de-chambre  hands 
me  a  bundle  of  New- York  newspapers,  which  I  open,  when  out 
falls  a  note.  I  open,  read  and  identify  the  writer,  Mr. t##**_ 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 


as  the  person  mentioned  by  Mr.  Davezac,  and  the  very 
scribbler,  signing  himself  X.  Y.  Z.,  in  the  New- York  Courier  and 
Enquirer,  whose  false  representation  of  things,  and,  especially, 
whose  exorbitant  passion  for  turning  mole-hills  into  mountains, 
I  thought  I  had  remarked  before.  He  tells  me  Mr.  D.  was  good 
enough  to  say  he  had  mentioned  his  name  to  me  (though  he 
does  not  say  that  Mr.  D.  had  mentioned  my  name  to  him) ;  that 
Mr.  D.,  when  the  said  newsmonger  was  at  the  Hague,  had  fur- 
nished him  with  several  valuable  hints  for  the  performance  of 
his  "professional  duty"!  as  a  correspondent  of  a  New- York  and 
London  journals — (the  Times).  This  I  took  to  be  a  very  broad 
hint  (and  valuable,  too,  in  its  way) ;  that  he  desired  me  to  serve 
him  in  the  same  way  here,  which,  considering  the  perfect  confi- 
dence with  which  SirR.  Adair  communicates  to  me  every  thing 
known  to  him  in  a  diplomatic  way,  would  be  very  good  of  me, 
to  be  sure.  Having  dropped  this  significant  insinuation,  the 
accident-maker  proceeds  to  say  he  has  just  received  a  file  of 
New- York  newspapers,  (which  he  begs  to  place  at  my  disposal,) 
and  that  that  incident  had  reminded  him  of  the  (solemn)  "prom 
ise"  [duty  again]  he  had  made  Mr.  D.  to  become  acquainted  with 
me  as  soon  as  possible, — which  is  paying  me  a  high  compliment, 
I  trow.  He  concludes  by  asking  me  whether,  should  I  be  in- 
formed of  Mr.  D's.  arrival  at  Naples,  I  would  not  let  him  know 
of  it,  for  which  he  has  the  honor  to  be  my  most  obedient  ser- 
vant. Je  suis  votre  valet,  as  they  say  in  the  French  farces.  I 
happen  not  to  be  a  blancbec,  thought  I.  Having  travelled  much 
when  very  young,  I  have  the  caution  which  that  experience 
never  fails  to  give ;  and,  "of  all  men,  else,  I  have  avoided  thee," 
anonymous  hireling,  whose  line-paid  lies  serve  no  purpose  in 
the  world  but  to  feed  vulgar  malignity  with  false  ideas  of  the 
weakness  and  misery  of  its  betters,  and  with  hopes,  destined 
never  to  be  fulfilled,  of  revolutions  in  its  own  favor.  And  yet 
this  accursed  race  of  Thersites',  who  should  be  abhorred  both  of 
gods  and  men,  are  sure  to  make  up  to  an  American  in  Europe, 
and  have  too  much  reason  to  do  so, — just  as  if.  because  we  live 
under  and  prefer  a  different  form  of  government,  we  had  de- 
clared war,  like  so  many  Barbary  pirates,  against  all  the  laws, 
usages,  property  and  establishments — and,  with  that,  against  all 
the  honor  and  decency — of  the  civilized  world ;  and  could  find 
no  society  to  suit  us,  but — the  "fit  audience,  though  few" — the 
refuse  of  all  the  world  besides.  Still,  it  won't  do  to  offend  men 
who  think  their  impertinences  civility,  and  mean  them  as  such, 
and  a  newspaper  editor  and  news-maker,  above  all, — for  there  is 
not  a  more  fearful  wild-fowl  living, — Lupum  auribus  teneo. 
So,  as  this  varlet  is  come  for  diplomacy,  give  it  to  him  ;  which 
I  accordingly  do  in  a  letter,  exactly  adjusted  to  his,  so  as  to  bind 
myself  solemnly  to  have  the  pleasure  of  informing  him,  should 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS.  23 

I  happen  to  hear  of  Mr.  Davezac's  arrival,  (which,  however,  I 
add,  is  by  no  means  probable,)  and  to  acknowledge  the  liveliest 
gratitude  for  his  favor  in  sending  the  papers,  which,  without 
taking  his  hint  about  "hints",  I  send  back  to  him,  only  enough 
read  to  see  several  pieces  dated  at  "the  Hague",  and  signed  X. 
Y.  Z.  By  the  way,  what  is  become  of  that  great  prophet,  O. 
P.  Q,.?  who,  because  Charles  X.  fell  according  to  his  predictions, 
turned  his  face  towards  Neuilly  and  prophecied  again  ;  but 
helas  !  the  row  of  June  6th  came  and  is  gone,  and  there  sits 
Louis- Philippe  still,  and  there  he  will  sit,  like  Theseus  in  Virgil's 
hell.     Sedet  in  aeternum. 

Very  cold  for  the  season.  Mr.  Seymour  goes  out  with  me  at 
7,  en  caliche.     On  our  return  we  are  glad  to  sit  by  a  fire. 

27th  May.  Before  I  am  out  of  my  bed-room,  my  footman 
hands  me  a  letter  and  a  printed  roll  of  papers.  The  address  of 
the  letter  authorises  it  to  be  opened  by  my  "Secretary",  if  I  am 
not  there.  What  the  deuce  means  this  impatience  ?  I  break 
the  seal,  and  see  nothing  but  a  letter  for  Mr.  T********,  "Corres- 
pondent of  the  Times",  and  a  line  giving  me  to  understand  that 
this  draft  on  me  for  a  florin  in  postage  had  been  made  by  a 
"friend  of  Mr.  Davezac",  and,  I  suppose,  of  liberal  principles. 
A  specimen  this  of  their  way  of  confounding  meum  and  tuum, 
which  confusion  is  undoubtedly  at  the  bottom  of  most  of  the 
Reforms  noAv  in  contemplation, — St.  Simonianism  dressed  en 
bourgeois.  Enclose  it,  and  send  it  en  blanc.  By-the-bye,  this 
reminds  me  of  a  certain  "Sir  Arthur  Brooke  Falconer",  that  sent 
me  a  letter  once  to  be  forwarded  to  Mr.  Davezac.  I  did  forward 
it,  and,  in  the  fulness  of  time,  was  favored  with  a  call  by  this 
knight,  (who  looked  so  confoundedly  like  a  Chevalier  of  the 
most  noble  and  universal  order  of  Industrie,  that  I  did  not  trou- 
ble him  to  sit  down,)  inquiring  with  a  touching  parental  solici- 
tude after  the  fate  of  his  offspring.  I  told  him  I  had  sent  it  by 
the  courier  of  the  English  embassy  to  the  American  legation  at 
London,  to  be  forwarded  to  its  address,  all  direct  communication 
having  been  cut  off.  He  "Excellency'd"  me  up  to  the  skies,  and 
apologized  for  troubling  me,  but  gave  me  to  understand  it  would 
not  do  for  him  (who,  albeit  unheard  of  by  me,  he  signified,  was 
not  unknown  or  unobserved  in  these  parts)  to  be  known  to  be 
corresponding  with  any  one, — that  he  was  tres  lie  with  Mr.  Da- 
vezac, with  whom  he  concurred  in  political  sentiment,  etc.,  etc. 
He  bored  me  to  death  with  the  same  inquiry  afterwards,  but  as 
he  got  nothing  but  a  dry  negative  every  time  he  rang,  his  at- 
tacks gradually  became  less  frequent,  and,  at  length,  died  away. 
One  day  I  asked  Sir  Henry  Seton  if  he  knew  any  thing  of  a 
brother  in  chivalry  of  the  name  of  Sir  Arthur  Brooke  Fal-co- 
nere.     "What,"  said  Sir  Robert  Adair,  "has  that  fellow  been  at 


24  DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 

you  too  ?"  Wherefore  Sir  Henry  tells  me  he  too  has  a  "profes- 
sional duty''  to  perform, — to  wit,  that  of  a  book-making  traveller; 
that  he  has  already  published  something  about  this  country  and 
Holland;  that,  living  here  when  the  Court  was  less  fastidious, 
and  being  supposed  better  than  he  was,  lie  had  been  invited  to 
dine  there  ;  that  he  presented  himself  in  the  oddest  costume 
imaginable,  pea-green  coat,  yellow  breeches,  etc.,  with  a  thun- 
dering bow  of  crape  on  his  right  arm  (the  Court  being  in  mourn- 
ing) ;  that,  hearing  the  Grand-Marshal  had  taken  great  offence 
at  his  fancy  toilette,  he  had  written  a  letter  expressing  his  aston- 
ishment that  Count  d'Aerschot  should  think  that  unbecoming, 
which  appeared  to  him,  the  said  Sir  A.  B.  F.,  so  particularly 
well  suited  to  the  occasion  ;  that,  among  other  things  in  his  book, 
he  had  mentioned  the  royal  table  as  being  very  well  indeed,  for 
a  bachelor's  board  !!  etc.,  etc. 

Tell  my  valet- de-chambre,  when  he  comes  to  shave  me  this 
morning,  that  I  am  very  much  dissatisfied  with  him,  and,  in 
short,  that  I  must  make  another  arrangement.  He  begs  I  will 
not  dismiss  him  in  disgrace.  I  tell  him  he  shall  still  shave  me 
and  read  to  me  the  newspapers  and  Spanish.  He  seems  quite 
satisfied. 

Go  out  en  voiture  at  3.  Stop  at  Summer hauzerfs.  Go  thence 
to  the  fair  in  the  Grande-Place.  Get  down  and  walk  among  the 
booths,  full  of  trumpery.  Stop  at  a  stall ;  cheapen  some  books — 
Madame  de  Deffand's  Letters  to  Horace  Walpole.  He  asks  1 5 
francs ;  I  offer  5  florins,  and  get  them. 

Drive  in  the  Alice  Verte  in  the  evening.  Still  cold  and  glad 
to  get  back — enrhume.     Go  to  bed  at  3-4  past  10. 

Opened  this  morning  a  German  grammar,  and -got  some  idea 
of  the  pronunciation  and  characters.  Don't  think  it  will  be  dif- 
ficult for  me. 

28th  May.  Col.  Jeffries,  the  West-Indian,  comes  in.  Returns 
the  Southern  Review  (No.  3)  and  American  newspapers  I  lent 
him.  Says  he  is  charmed  with  the  opportunity  of  reading  these  : 
is  all  agog  about  America.  Talks  about  the  emancipation  bill, 
etc.,  etc.  As  he  is  going  out,  Mr.  Irving,  cousin  of  Beaufain, 
comes  in.  He  had  sent  me,  the  day  before,  the  ministerial  projet 
and  voluminous  minutes  of  proceedings  between  H.  M.'s  gov- 
ernment and  the  West-India  body.  Says  the  plan  of  Mr.  Stanley 
is  too  absurd  for  discussion,  and  will  not  be  acceded  to  by  the 
Jamaica  legislature,  of  which  he  has  himself  been  a  member. 
But,  I  ask,  what  can  they  do  ?  Declare  themselves  independent, 
says  he.  How  long  can  they  stand  by  themselves?  Not  at  all, 
says  he  ;  they  will  immediately  pass  a  universal,  unqualified 
emancipation  bill  themselves.  Then  what  will  they  gain  ?  They 
will   not  be  obliged  to  pay  their  English  debts,  which  the  in- 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS.  40 

demnity  will  be  wholly  insufficient  to  cover.  Indeed,  the  min- 
istry (who,  having  belied  all  their  professions  and  disappointed 
every  hope  which  the  people  had  conceived  from  the  adoption 
of  Parliamentary  Reform,  are  very  ready  to  throw  the  West- 
India  interest,  properly  so  called,  overboard,  [vile  damnum,]  as 
a  tub  to  the  whale)  have  just  allowed  what  they  imagine  will 
satisfy  the  mortgages.  They  rate  each  slave  at  about  £20,  and 
give  nothing  at  all  for  the  land,  of  which  the  act  destroys  totally 
the  value,  and  all  the  fixed  capital  that  perishes  with  it  in  those 
expensive  establishments.  I  tell  him  that,  from  the  cursory 
glance  I  have  cast  over  the  projet,  it  seems  to  be  a  plan  for  turn- 
ing the  West-India  planters  into  so  many  compulsory  school- 
masters for  civilizing  the  negroes,  whom,  meanwhile,  they  are 
bound  to  feed  and  clothe  at  their  own  risk  and  peril,  in  a  country 
which  is  everlastingly  beset  by  famine.  He  observes  that  some 
years  ago  the  planters  would  have  accepted  almost  any  terms, 
for  the  glut  in  the  market  and  low  prices  had  made  their  estates 
a  mere  burthen  ;  but  that,  of  late,  things  have  been  visibly 
mending,  and  that,  owing  to  the  cessation  of  the  slave  trade, 
they  promise  to  be  still  better.  In  short,  they  now  yield  a  very 
good  income.  (Col.  Barclay,  here,  told  me,  some  time  ago,  that 
in  which  he  was  interested  gave  him  £7000  last  year  net.)  We 
then  speak  of  the  state  of  things  in  Charleston  and  the  Southern 
States  generally  ;  mentions  that  Mrs.  Jacob  Irving  (Beaufain's 
mother)  had  written  to  Mr.  Simpson,  of  the  house  of  Davidson 
&  Simpson  in  London,  a  horrid  account  of  the  condition  to 
which  the  fury  of  faction  had  reduced  society  in  South-Carolina; 
that  every  body  that  could  get  away  was  leaving  the  State  ;  that 
she  intended  to  go  soon  to  New- York,  and  advised  her  son  Ja- 
cob by  no  means  to  go  over  thither,  as  he  had  purposed  doing. 
En  quo  discordia  cives  perduxit,  miseros.  I  told  him  it  was 
just  such  a  picture  as  my  imagination  had  sketched  for  itself, 
and  was,  I  feared,  but  too  exact. 

His  West-India  plan  of  independence  reminds  me  of  the  sui- 
cides so  frequent  under  the  reign  of  Tiberius,  by  which  gentle- 
men, who  foresaw  that  they  were  destined  soon  to  be  victims  of 
the  tyrant's  vengeance,  escaped  from  an  ignominious  end,  and, 
what  was  yet  worse,  from  the  forfeiture  of  estates  that  followed 
a  judicial  sentence.  Queer e — Were  not  such  suicides  matter  of 
duty  ? 

Mr.  Irving  told  me  he  heard  I  had  said  to  Mr.  Jeffreys  that 
the  Southern  States  were  about  to  liberate  their  slaves  and  send 
them  all  to  Liberia.  This  strange  misapprehension  shows  how 
very  cautious  people  ought  to  be  in  conversation  with  strangers, 
and  especially  in  repeating  conversations.  I  explain  the  error, — 
distinguish  between  the  situation  and  feelings  of  South-Carolina, 
Georgia,  etc.,  and  the  States  further  North,  Maryland,  etc.  Tell 
vol.  1. — 4 


26  DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 

him  that  Virginia  lias  always  been  averse  to  hold  negro  slaves  ; 
that  Mr.  Jefferson  had,  in  the  original  draft  of  the  Declaration  of 
Independence,  inserted  a  clause,  alleging  the  forcing  these  poor 
wretches  upon  the  colonies  against  the  will  of  these  latter,  as 
one  of  the  motives  of  their  separation  from  the  mother  country, 
lie  is  struck  with  this;  begs  me  to  state  it  in  writing,  that  he 
may  send  it  to  Mr.  Barrett,  Speaker  of  the  Assembly  of  Jamaica, 
who  is  now  in  London  looking  after  the  interest  of  the  colonies. 
I  tell  him  I  had  written  an  elaborate  essay  on  the  subject,  in 
which  my  object  was  to  state  the  case  of  the  South  fairly  ;  look 
for  it,  but  find  I  have  lent  it.  Tell  him  1  will  try  to  get  it,  and 
send  it  by  Sir  Robert's  courier  to  Mr.  Barrett's  address.  Takes 
his  leave  urging  me  to  do  so.  Accordingly  1  send  to  Mr.  Drury, 
who  lets  me  have  his  number.  I  write  a  note  to  Mr.  Barrett, 
anonymous  but  una  sains,  etc.,  envelope,  seal  and  address  the 
parcel  to  the  care  of  Mr.  Vail,  charge  d'affaires  in  London, — but 
after  all  do  not  send  it.  The  wrapping-paper  (all  I  happened 
to  have)  was  bad,  etc.  This  inspired  me  with  a  certain  degoul, 
and  then  another  came,  etc.,  etc. 

Dine  at  Sir  R.  Adair's.  Small  party  for  such  an  occasion. 
Three  of  the  ministers,  Goblet,  Lebeau  and  Rosier,  the  Duke 
d'Arenberg,  General  Nypels,  Messrs.  Fitzgerald,  Butler  and  Sey- 
mour, General  Desprez,  Perier,  Des  Voeux,  Doyle  and  myself. 
Grand  dinner,  however.  The  king  of  England's  health,  porte 
by  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs,  and  H.  M.  Leopold's,  by  the 
English  ambassador  in  return.  I  sit  between  Goblet  and  Lebeau. 
Had  more  to  say  to  the  latter  than  I  have  ever  had  before.  Talk 
of  Bonaparte  :  Gen.  Desprez  says  he  had  very  little  knowledge 
(connaissances  positives) ;  knew  the  elements  very  well,  but  that 
was  all.  Goblet  mentions  that  he  used  to  see  him  in  1803  and  4. 
He  was  then  a  boy  at  school.  Bonaparte  took  great  pains  to 
win  all  young  people,  and,  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest  classes 
of  the  academy,  he  came  into  personal  contact  with  the  boys, — 
to  please  them  he  rated  and  insulted  the  masters,  whom  he  would 
afterwards  indemnify  by  presents,  etc.  We  talk  of  his  influence 
on  the  progress  of  civilization, — thence  to  the  times  we  live  in, 
which  both  Lebeau  and  Gen.  Desprez  lament  as  characterized 
by  contempt  of  all  order,  subordination  and  authority.  (In  this 
point  of  view,  Lebeau  says  he  regards  the  revolution  of  1830  as 
a  grand  malheur,  nota).  Both  seem  to  insinuate  that  Catholic- 
ism is  gaining  ground.  Desprez  asks  me  if  it  is  not  so,  especially, 
in  America.  I  tell  him  undoubtedly,  in  a  certain  sense, — not,  1 
think,  by  the  recovery  of  lost  sheep,  but  by  gathering  into  large 
masses  and  taking  care  of  the  once  scattered,  neglected  and  rot- 
ting flocks  of  the  faithful.  But  don't  they  make  many  prose- 
lytes? he  asks  with  vivacity.  1  tell  him  Bishop  E******,  a 
great  fisher  of  men,  has  sometimes  drawn  up  a  gudgeon,  and  so 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 


27 


others  may,  for  aught  I  know  ;  but,  in  a  country  where  there 
were  so  many  sects  and  such  propagandisms,  a  few  instances 
of  the  kind  made  no  noise.  They  mention  that,  in  Germany, 
many  professors  and  literati  had  lately  given  in  their  adhesion. 
Mr.  Fitzgerald,  who  is  opposite,  mentions  Tom  Moore's  recent 
conversion,  and  then  recalls  some  of  Master  Little's  former  blas- 
phemies ;  e.  g.,  he  heard  him  explain  the  worship  of  the  Virgin 
in  Italy,  etc.,  by  the  analogy  of  the  influence  of  a  Cardinal's 
mistress,  etc. 

Mr.  Lebeau  says,  apropos  of  the  United  States,  that  it  is  a 
prosaic  country.  I  tell  him  all  happiness  and  order  are  neces- 
sarily prosaic.  Aristotle  says  your  hero  must  not  be  a  saint. 
What  poet  has  ever  been  able  to  make  any  thing  of  heaven  ; 
what  romance-writer  ventures  to  go  further  than  the  marriage 
ceremony  ?  Compare  Paradise  Lost  to  Paradise  Regained,  the 
Paradise  of  Dante  with  the  Inferno,  etc.  But  don't  despair ; 
things  are  growing  tragical  enough  with  us. 

After  dinner,  Duke  d'Arenberg  talks  a  good  deal  about  the 
incapacity  of  the  Belgians  generally  for  the  higher  order  of  em- 
ployment ;  (they  were  all  gone,  and  only  English  left  to  hear  his 
dissertation).  Says  the  capital  error  of  the  king  of  Holland 
was  that,  seeing  his  southern  subjects  were  fools,  he  was  not 
content  to  turn  his  knowledge  quietly  and  cautiously  to  account, 
but  must  need  make  them  feel  and  confess  their  own  deficien- 
cies. Going  down  stairs,  he  tells  me,  if  the  revolution  had  not 
taken  place,  all  the  commerce  of  the  Low  Countries  would  have 
centered  here.  What,  then,  has  Belgium  gained,  except  the 
honor  of  filling  her  armies  and  bureaux  with  her  own  incapa- 
bilities, according  to  this. 

Throw  off  my  court  dress  and  go  en  bourgeois  to  a  party  at 
the  Miss  Heyland's, — given  in  honor  of  the  very  ugliest  English 
woman  (by-the-bye,  she  is  Irish)  I  ever  saw,  an  old  maid,  by 

name  Lady A********.     Am  presented  to  her  frightful 

ladyship,  and,  as  I  do  not  perceive  that  any  body  is  observing 
me,  talk  to  her  some  moments.  Miss  Doyle  looking  beautifully ; 
both  she  and  the  Countess  de  Bethune  in  hats.  Dancing  to  a 
piano-forte.  Very  pleasant  soiree.  I  leave  at  12  and  go  quietly 
to  bed,  but  not  without  thinking  how  easily  a  well-disposed 
Benedict  might  be  suited  in  this  charming  English  circle. 

29th  May.  Nothing  of  any  importance  happens  to-day,  ex- 
cept that,  in  consequence  of  the  dissatisfaction  his  frequent  ab- 
sences have  occasioned  me,  my  valet-de-chambre  is  honorably 
destitue  of  that  station  wcid  forisfamiliated.  Hereafter  I  prom- 
ise to  retain  him  as  my  barber  and  Spanish  reader,  with  a  small 
allowance.  Mem. — A  silver  piece  of  three  florins,  which  I 
received  with  a  rouleau  of  demi-guillaumes  at  my  barber's  yes- 


2S  DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 

terday,  is  non  est  inventus.  It  is  the  very  first  time  I  have  left 
my  money  in  the  way  of  servants,  (who  ought  not  unnecessarily 
to  be  led  into  temptation,)  and  I  am  admonished  not  10  do  so 
again.  I  am  exceedingly  uneasy  about  its  disappearance,  and  do 
not  know  what  to  think  of  it. 

In  driving  out  after  dinner,  take  up  the  Rev.  Mr.  Drury  and 
his  son.  Conversation  about  England,  English,  and  so  forth. 
Asks  me  if,  with  my  opportunities  of  seeing  his  countrymen  of 
all  ranks,  I  don't  observe  a  marked  difference  between  the  no- 
bility and  their  more  humble  imitators  among  the  gentry  and 
nonveanx  riches.  Tell  him  I  do  ;  the  ease,  grace  and  amabilife 
of  the  former  being  the  natural  consequence  of  ascertained  supe- 
riority and  great  usage  du  monde. 

Read,  yesterday  and  to-day,  some  letters  of  that  old  witch, 
Madame  du  Deffand,  to  Walpole.  After  the  horrible  barbarity 
exercised  by  the  Court  upon  poor  Lally,  had  they  any  right  to 
complain  when  their  turn  came  to  sit  in  a  tombereau,  for  even 
the  Jacobins  never  used  the  gag  or  thought  of  torture. 

Take  a  walk  on  the  Boulevard  at  HI  o'clock ;  lovely  moon- 
light. 

30th  May.  Valet- de-chambre  continues  to  read  to  me  Gil 
Bias  in  Spanish  while  I  drink  my  tea  at  10  o'clock  ;  and,  at  1, 
Erminier's  Philosophic  du  Droit.  This  author,  who  writes 
himself  Professeur  de  I'  histoire  generate  des  Legislations 
comparees  au  College  de  France,  has  published  an  essay  de 
omni  scibili  under  the  above  title, — odd  mixture  of  German 
rhapsody  and  St.  Simonian  licentiousness.  He  thinks  war  the 
sovereignest  means  of  propagating  civilization  and  liberty,  and 
that  Napoleon  was  the  only  great  captain  (except,  of  course, 
Mahomet  &  Co.)  who  saw  this  sublime  discipline  in  its  true  light 
and  used  it  for  proper  purposes.  He  thinks  France  entitled  to 
the  barrier  of  the  Rhine,  for,  in  his  philosophy  of  law,  there  is 
obviously  a  confusion  of  libet  and  licet.  These  are  the  ideas  of 
"young  France"! 

Go  out  en  caleche  at  3  o'clock  ;  return  at  half-past  4 ;  at  6 
dine  at  Court.  A  new  importation  of  English.  Grand-Marshal 
presents  me  to  Lady  "YV*********  G*****,  and  begs  me  to  hand 
her  to  dinner.  I  converse  with  her  and  a  tall,  stout  daughter, 
with  a  sort  of  tartan-silk  head-dress,  that  was  not  unbecoming 
in  so  strapping  a  lass,  and  gave  her  a  rather  characteristic  Helen 
McGregor  look.  Find  the  mother  a  good  soul,  who  is  just  come 
from  a  tour  of  the  Rhine  and  as  far  as  Paris,  where  "G*****" 
(who  had  it  in  his  power  to  do  the  king  of  France  some  service 
when  he  was  in  exile)  was  received  at  Court  with  all  possible 
kindness.  Wife  charmed  with  the  queen  of  France  and  Princess 
Mary.     Prom  her  wonderment  and  satisfaction  at  every  thing,  I 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS.  29 

infer  she  has  not  seen  much  of  the  world  before.  After  waiting 
a  long  time,  king  and  queen  appear.  Some  presentations  to  their 
majesties.  At  dinner,  I  place  Lady  G*****  on  the  right  of  the 
Serenissime  Highness  Prince  de  Reuss  Lobenstein,  who  is  on 
the  right  of  the  queen.  Miss  G*****  is  on  my  right,  and  Seton 
next  to  her.  At  table  keep  up  rather  a  spirited  talk  with  her 
Caledonian  ladyship,  who  tells  me  they  are  not  at  all  related  to 
Lord  Byron.  She  plied  her  knife  and  fork  with  considerable 
activity,  and  was  disposed  to  get  the  start  of  the  "majestic 
world".  A  dish  of  cotelettes  au  naturel  was  before  us,  waiting 
coolly  its  turn  to  be  served.  Her  ladyship,  who  has  just  dis- 
patched what  was  on  her  plate,  pushes  it  a  little  towards  me,  and 
asks  me  "if  she  may  trouble  me  for  a  cutlet."  I  don't  seem  at 
all  surprised  at  this  shocking  anachronism,  (by  which  I  am  ut- 
terly horrified,)  but  tell  her  that  they  will  be  presently  handed 
by  the  maitre  d'hotel,  adding  that  I  had  an  eye  on  them  myself, 
for  I  thought  that,  after  all,  there  was  nothing  like  a  chop  !  As 
Guleston  in  Pelham  says,  what  can  be  made  of  a  people  that 
don't  know  how  to  eat  a  dinner ;  but  what  a  joke  was  spoiled  by 
my  sang-froid  !  Figure  to  yourself  a  diplomate  putting  his 
own  fork  into  a  dish  at  the  king's  table,  to  help  a  Scotch  lady  to 
a  chop,  upon  a  plate  from  whose  shining  (though  unwashed) 
face  a  previous  holocaust  has  obviously  disappeared  ! 

On  the  other  side  of  me,  Miss  G*****,  in  a  very  audible,  and, 
indeed,  rather  sonorous,  though  not  disagreeable  voice,  is  chat- 
tering fashionable  scandal  with  Seton, — whose  excess  of  appetite 
for  that  savage  food  grows  on  what  it  feeds.  I  think  I  never 
saw  any  biped  with  a  beard  so  omniverous  of  slander,  and  no 
harpy  ever  let  out  what  it  devoured  in  fuller,  fouller  or  more 
frequent  discharges.  At  table,  he  is  talking  about  Murat, — 
whose  wife,  he  mentions,  loud  enough  for  me  to  hear,  (he  wishes 
to  call  my  attention,)  is  an  American.  This  leads  to  some  in- 
quiry, what  sort  of  person,  etc.,  from  Miss  G.  Among  other 
things,  he  mentions  he  heard  her  say  that  every  king  and  queen 
in  the  world  ought  to  have  his  or  her  throat  cut.  This,  which 
was  probably  uttered  as  an  innocent  pleasantry  in  reply  to  some 
gross  badinage  of  his,  for  his  style  of  conversation  with  women 
is  of  the  most  impudent  and  unvarnished  character,  (e.  g.,  he 
said  to  a  young  lady  who  had  been  unwell,  in  his  shrill  treble, 
ill  suppose  you  drank  too  much  of  that  sour  lemonade,  and  it 
gave  you  a  pain  in  the  bowels";  and  to  Madame  Murat  herself, 
as  he  told  me,  he  put  the  question,  whether  in  her  country  every 
free  man  had  not,  of  course,  a  right  to  kill  his  own  nig-gur,)  he 
represented  as  the  serious  expression  of  an  atrocious  sentiment. 

Miss  G*****  mentions  that  Mrs.  Shelly  got  from  the  Guiccioli, 
when  she  was  in  England,  the  other  day,  a  memorandum-book 
of  Lord  Byron,  in  which  he  lampoons  and  ridicules  poor  Rogers 


30  DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 

in  a  frightful  manner,  and  has  it  published — the  wretch  !     But 
what  a  heartless,  hypocritical  scoundrel  Byron  was ! 

Sir  W.  G*****  came  up  to  me  before  dinner,  and  held  a  long 
conversation  with  me  about  America  and  the  West-Indies.  He 
talks  like  a  worthy,  sensible  man.  I  tell  him  of  an  impostor 
who,  nine  years  ago,  passed  himself  off  in  America  as  his  son. 
Says  he  heard  of  it,  through  somebody  that  had  lent  him  money. 

Soiree  long ;  don't  get  home  till  9.  At  half-past,  go  out  en 
caleche  and  take  a  drive  in  the  moonlight,  on  the  Boulevards, 
until  half- past  10. 

I  ought  to  have  mentioned  that,  for  the  first  time  in  my  life,  I 

conversed  with  an  unfrocked  abbe,  M. ,  member  of  the 

Chamber  of  Deputies,  who  soon  gave  me  to  understand  that  he 
had  made  the  most  of  the  sceculum  when  he  was  in  it,  having 
been  a  banker  at  Antwerp  and  a  great  and  successful  speculator 
in  the  funds.  Tells  me  the  priests  did  not  make  the  revolution, 
but  have  saved  it.  Asks  me  about  his  church  in  America,  etc. 
Tells  me  a  good  many  Belgian  priests  are  there,  and  pleased. 
Says  the  King  of  Holland  discouraged  their  missionary  emigra- 
tions. I  tell  him  it  reminds  one  of  Charles  I.  stopping  the  ship 
freighted  with  future  rebels  and  regicides, — Cromwell,  Hampden, 
Pym,  etc.  Ask  him  if  any  of  the  priests  are  really  republicans. 
Says  the  young,  unfledged  scholars,  full  of  the  romances,  called 
history  of  Greece  and  Rome ;  a  fine  thing  in  theory,  that  same 
rcpublique,  says  he,  mais  ga  ne  vaut  pas  le  diable  dans  la 
pratique.  He  turned  priest  from  the  loss  of  his  wife  and  only 
child,  and  the  touching  occasion  of  his  taking  the  robe  was 
making  me  very  sentimental  about  broken  hearts,  religious  ex- 
altation, consolations  from  above,  monastic  life,  etc.,  etc.,  when 
my  talkative  and  rather  weak,  and,  I  suppose,  vain,  little  abbe, 
let  it  out,  that,  having  somewhat  of  a  talent  at  preaching,  he 
was  doing  some  good.  Helas  !  the  Archbishop  of  Granada  and 
his  homilies  flashed  into  my  mind,  and  the  dream  of  romance 
vanishes  at  the  touch  of  my  Ithuriel — Gil-Bias. 

3\st  May.  The  month  ends  with  very  fine,  but  very  dry 
and  rather  cool  weather.  Invited  to  dine  at  Prince  Auguste's 
to-morrow,  at  half- past  4, — proof  that  it  will  be  en  petit  comitc. 
About  2,  receive  a  note  from  Lady  Hastings,  requesting  me  to 
call  after  my  evening's  drive.  Thinking  Ihere  would  be  some- 
thing of  a  party,  did  not  go  till  near  10  ;  the  which  I  regretted, 
for  there  were  only  the  Fitzgeralds,  Seymours,  Frekes,  and  Des 
Voeuxs  and  Sir  H.  Seton,  who  went  (all  but  the  Des  Voeux's) 
about  half-past  10  and  left  me  alone  with  my  happiness,  tant 
mieux.  Had  a  long  talk  with  Lady  Adelaide,  who  is  droll. 
Tells  of  a  fight  that  occurred  at  one  of  the  pic-nics,  that  are  all 
the  rage  now  ;  the  publican  and  his  men  and  neighbors,  against 


DIARY  OP  BRUSSELS.  31 

the  valetaille  of  the  pic-nickers, — which  said  racaille  forfeited 
their  wages,  by  giving  up  the  field  without  striking  a  blow, — all 
except  an  Irishman,  servant  of  the  Calderwood's,  who  stripped 
to  it  with  true  Hibernian  spunk  and  defied  their  combined  forces. 
I  asked  what  became  of  the  knights  themselves  during  this  mo- 
mentous scene.  Kept  aloof,  on  Don  Quixotte's  principle,  leaving 
their  squires  to  do  revenge  themselves,  as  they  might,  upon  the 
belligerent  churls.  (Afterwards  find  this  was  not  exactly  the 
case.)  Fighting  is  a  Vordre  dujour.  Mrs.  Seymour  tells  me  of 
a  conflict  a  Voutrance  that  occurred  yesterday  in  their  premises, 
between  their  fat  landlord  and  the  allied  arms  of  two  maid- 
servants of  theirs,  one  of  whom  came  off  with  a  black  eye, 
which  she  had  purchased  or  paid  for  by  a  scratched  face  of  the 
said  landlord.  Nobody  interfered,  it  seems,  during  this  singular 
rencontre,  nor  has  la  justice  interfered  since.  One  had  need  be 
on  his  guard  against  these  Amazons. 

After  the  rest  were  gone,  Lady  Flora  and  Lady  Selina  sang 
sweetly.     I  stay  until  past  11,  and  take  my  leave  with  regret. 

Lady  Charlotte  Fitzgerald  asks  me  how  my  name  ought  to  be 
pronounced.  I  tell  her  Legree, — but  Leg  arc  is  so  convenient 
here. 

Thus  ends  the  month  of  May.  Am  I  wiser  or  happier  than 
at  the  beginning  of  it  ?  I  humbly  trust  that  I  am  both  (for  true 
wisdom  and  happiness  are  one).  Helas  !  yvwSi  tfsau<rov.  The  spirit 
of  philosophical  research, — the  thirst  for  permanent  and  great 
renown  among  those  who  have  done  something  for  the  dignity 
of  human  nature  and  the  happiness  of  their  fellow  men,— have, 
L  know  not  how,  sprung  up  afresh  in  my  mind  within  a  few 
weeks  past,  and  their  inspiring  impulses  are,  I  am  sure,  about  to 
triumph  completely  (as  they  have  before)  over  my  evil  genius, 
the  soft  epicurean  "indolentia"  that  so  easily  besets  me.  (1  Sept. 
Never  was  confidence  so  ill  bestowed  !) 

June  1.  Study,  etc.,  as  usual.  Weather  less  cool ;  take  a 
warm  bath  in  consequence.  Receive  the  visit  of  Col.  Nixon, 
just  returned,  after  five  months  absence,  from  England.  Ask 
him  how  things  are  going  on  there.  Answers  very  badly  ;  every 
body  gloomy  and  alarmed ;  thinks  there  is  a  plentiful  lack  of 
brains  in  the  cabinet.  Duke  of  Wellington  cheered  lately  by 
the  populace  at  some  great  military  review.  West-India  scheme 
of  Mr.  Stanley  condemned,  out  of  Parliament,  as  impracticable. 
While  he  is  with  me,  Casimir  Perier  comes  in.  Invites  me  to  a 
soiree  at  his  house  this  evening.  Dine  at  Prince  Auguste's : 
only  the  Seymours,  Marquis  de  Jumelle,  and  a  Mr. — ,  re- 
nowned as  the  best  connoisseur  in  pictures  in  all  Europe  (I  un- 
derstand). Remarked  by  somebody  that  Flemish  pictures  are 
more  sought  after  than  Italian.    Accounts  for  it  by  the  difficulty 


32  DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 

of  getting  a  true  Italian  chef  oVceuvre,  and  its  clearness,  if  its 
trenuineness  be  established.  After  dinner  take  a  drive  towards 
Foret,  and  get  down  to  walk  up  a  hill  on  which  there  is  a  fine 
wood.  Hear  the  cuckoo  for  the  first  time  (I  think)  in  my  life  ; 
monotony  not  unlike  that  of  a  kind  of  dove  1  have  heard  in  the 
backwoods  of  Carolina.  My  servant  tells  me  the  history  of  this 
"bete",  which,  he  says,  builds  no  nest  of  his  own,  etc.  I  ask 
why  all  the  other  birds  don't  make  war  on  him.  He  laughs, 
and  says  they  do.  An  annunciation  hdas.  At  three-quarters 
past  9  go  to  M.  Perier's.  Every  body  there,  except  the  new 
Countess  de  Latour  Maubourg,  whom  etiquette  forbids  to  make 
her  entree  into  company  before  her  presentation  at  Court.  The 
Count  there,  looking  as  brisk  as  a  bridegroom.  Brings  me  from 
Paris  a  letter  from  Count  Stanislas  Zamoiska,  who  informs  me 
he  is  going  to  London,  whence  he  will  return  to  Brussels  for  a 
short  time.  Poor  fellow, — worthy  of  his  illustrious  descent,  by 
every  amiable  and  respectable  quality,  combining  the  purity  of 
primeval  innocence  with  the  discipline  of  the  most  polished  cir- 
cles ;  the  interest  1  take  in  him  is  painfully  lively,  though  he 
more  than  repays  me  for  it  by  his  attachment  to  me,  for  the  last 
words  he  spoke  at  Mr.  Seymour's  (at  whose  house  he  was  a 
constant  visiter)  was,  I  am  told,  "I  am  in  love  with  that  man." 
Sends  me,  by  Count  de  Latour  Maubourg,  a  new  copy  of  his 
uncle,  Prince  Czartorisky's  work  on  Diplomacy  or  the  Law  of 
Nations,  and  a  little  volume  about  Poland.  Enquires  after  "our 
Emma." 

Return  from  Perier's  at  midnight  on  foot;  lovely  moonlight. 
Ladies  all  at  me  for  a  ball, — especially  Lady  Morrin ;  plead 
celibacy,  and  the  horror  of  being  put  out  of  my  old  ways  and 
having  my  house  turned  upside  down.  However,  secretly  dis- 
posed to  give  in. 

2d  June — Sunday.  Intended  to  go  to  church  to-day,  but 
prevented  by  the  interest  I  felt  in  the  little  volume  sent  me  by 
M.  de  Zamoiska.  It  is  called  the  Livre  des  Pelerins  Polonais, 
and  purports  to  have  been  translated  from  the  Polish  of  Adam 
Mickiewitz  by  the  Count  Ch.  de  Montalembert,  under  whose 
name  there  is  prefixed  to  it  a  most  eloquent  and  powerful  appeal 
to  mankind  in  behalf  of  this  ill-fated  race.  I  had  never  read 
before  any  thing  like  a  detailed  account  of  the  horrible  barbari- 
ties of  the  victorious  Czar,  and  my  heart  alternately  burned 
with  indignation  at  the  insolent  and  cruel  domination  of  this 
barbarous  ruffian,  and  melted  and  sank  within  me  when  I 
thought  of  what  his  victims  have  been  and  are, — the  defenders' 
of  all  Christendom, — knights,  like  the  Cid,  whose  banner  was 
the  cross,  and  whose  blood  was  offered  up  for  the  faith  and  the 
freedom  of  Europe  with  such  generous  and  self-devoting  gal- 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS.  33 

lantry.  Milton's  sonnet  on  the  massacre  in  Piedmont  was  in 
my  mind  the  whole  time,  and  I  was  frequently  surprised  by 
tears  and  murmured  the  vow  of  the  great  poet, — "Avenge,  O 
Lord,  thy  slaughtered  saints, — their  martyred  blood  and  ashes 
sow,  o'er  all  th'  fields  where  still  doth  sway  th'  accursed  tyrant." 
Great  God  !  the  knout,  the  mine,  the  chain,  the  shaved-head,  the 
confessor  refused,  the  poor  orphans  hurried  away,  amidst  the 
cries  of  their  desolate  mothers,  into  an  everlasting  banishment 
among  barbarians, — all  education,  even  at  home,  forbidden,  etc., 
etc.  Great  God  !  and  is  it  the  country  of  Sobieski  that  is  thus 
trampled  upon  by  these  blood-thirsty  and  savage,  but  servile  and 
wretched  barbarians,  in  the  face  of  Europe  !  and  for  what  ? 

Of  the  poem  itself  I  can  scarce  venture  to  form  any  opinion, 
for  I  have  only  read  it  in  a  translation.  It  seems  to  me  to  be  too 
bold,  bordering  almost  upon  profaneness  ;  but  there  is  something 
striking  in  the  idea  of  identifying  the  progress  oi  liberty  with 
that  of  the  Christian  church, — the  sacrifice  of  Poland  with  that 
of  the  Pascal  Lamb, — and  the  virtues  necessary  to  her  ultimate 
triumph,  with  those  which  shone  forth  among  the  fiery  persecu- 
tions of  the  apostles  and  their  first  disciples.  One  thing  must 
be  admired, — the  author  is  right  in  preaching  the  humility 
which  is  of  the  essence  of  the  wisdom  that  is  from  above ;  and 
there  is  no  hope  for  liberty  but  in  the  progress  of  Christian  civ- 
ilization. Between  the  despotism  of  autocracy  on  the  one  hand, 
and  of  jacobinism  on  the  other,  tossed  alternately  from  one  to 
the  other,  where,  else,  can  we  find  a  spot  to  rest  the  soles  of  our 
feet  upon,  so  as  not  to  sink  down  in  the  "Slough  of  Despond." 

Receive  an  invitation  to  dine  at  Mr.  Seymour's  at  3 ;  some 
friends  from  the  north  of  Ireland  having  fallen  in  upon  him  un- 
expectedly. Go  there  accordingly,  and  meet  a  Mr.  Foley,  (cousin 
of  Lord  Foley,)  his  wife  and  sister-in-law, — all  upon  their  trav- 
els—the ladies  for  the  first  time.  Talk  rather  loudly  and  hoarsely, 
but  good,  sensible,  sound  English  minds  and  bodies.  After  din- 
ner take  a  drive,  Mr.  S.  and  Mr.  F.  accompanying  me,  while 
the  ladies  from  the  windows  of  the  upper  story  (we  remained  at 
table  after  them,  a  VAnglaise)  reproached  us,  very  justly,  for 
our  egoisme.  Return  and  pass  the  evening  there.  Col.  Count 
Prozynski  comes  in  and  has  a  long  conversation  with  me  ;  has 
faith  in  the  fall  of  thrones , — not  immediately  perhaps.  Asks 
me  to  lend  him  the  book  Zamoiska  sent  me.  Tell  him  I  will 
as  soon  as  Miss  Seymour  shall  have  read  it.  Walk  home  at  half- 
past  10,  and  observe  that  clouds  are  gathering  in  the  South  ; 
evening  sultry  ;  and  so  some  hopes  of  relief  from  this  distressing 
drought. 


3d  June.     Not  disappointed  :  when  I  look  out  this  morning, 
earth  wet, 
vol.  i. — 5 


see  the  earth  wet,  but  find  afterwards  that  the  shower  has  not 


34  DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 

been  sufficient.  Walk  out,  at  half-past  2,  to  my  banker's  ;  draw 
on  London  for  £200.  Visit  a  pretty  China  shop  :  talk  of  a  ser- 
vice de  dessert  en  pay  sage.  Find  it  rather  warm  walking; 
but,  driving  after  dinner,  it  was  so  cold  that  I  was  glad  to  get  in 
again.  Evening,  small  dancing  party  at  Mr.  White's,  where  I 
am  introduced  to  Madame  de  Latour  Maubourg,  who  is  tres 
gentille,  though  rather  small, — hair  a  la  Grecque,  very  simple 
and  becoming, — grave  look  for  a  French  lady ;  but  1  am  dis- 
posed to  like  and  do  like  her.  Party  insipid  enough  to  me ; 
more  rain  to-night. 

kth  June.  At  half- past  11  take  my  first  lesson  in  German 
from  a  Mr.  Harkan,  whom  I  suspect  of  being  a  Jew ;  he  seems 
rather  astonished  at  my  being  so  au-fait  (from  my  knowledge 
of  various  other  languages) ;  he  is  to  come  every  other  day,  and 
should  the  weakness  of  my  eyes  continue  I  will  employ  him  as 
a  reader.  At  3  go  out;  call  on  M.  and  Madame  de  Latour 
Maubourg,  Mrs.  Des  Voeux,  (wife  of  the  English  attache,  and 
daughter,  it  seems,  of  the  late  Lord  Ellenborough,)  Col.  Nixon, 
Lady  Charlotte  Fitzgerald,  and  Mr.  Taylor  and  his  family.  Lady 
Charlotte  invites  me  to  pass  to-morrow  evening  at  her  house. 
Lord  Hastings,  I  suppose,  is  to  be  there.  Meet  Mr.  Taylor  and 
family  coming  out  en  voiture,  as  I  drive  up  towards  his  house. 
See  the  Seymours  on  foot,  returning  from  the  same  expedition  ; 
get  down  and  walk  with  them.  Mrs.  S.  delivers  me  Lady  Char- 
lotte's message,  just  mentioned.  Speaking  of  marriage,  tells  me 
I  should  not  be  so  much  invited  about  if  I  were  not  a  bachelor, 
and  advises  me  not  to  give  up  my  privileges.  On  my  return 
home,  receive  a  letter  from  the  department  of  foreign  affairs, 
accompanied  by  Mr.  Marks'  commission  as  consul  at  Ostend, 
and  an  exequatur  for  him.  Write  to  Count  Zamoiska  and  the 
Barings.     Fine  rain  at  night.  Hear,  but  have  not  felt,  the  gnats. 

5th  June.  Begin  to  think  seriously  of  giving  a  soiree  dan- 
sante.  Mr.  Butler  calls  with  Mr.  T*****  B******,  nominally 
a  Boston  man,  but  really  any  thing  else.  Hands  me  a  letter 
from  Mr.  Vail,  charge,  etc.,  at  London,  whom  I  know  as  well  as 
I  do  the  man  in  the  moon,  except  that  I  never  saw  him.  I  had 
heard  of  Mr.  B******  before,  and  had  a  letter  to  him  from 
James  Rose  when  I  came  here  ;  but  he  was  gone  back  to  Eng- 
land. Is  now  travelling  on  the  continent  for  the  improvement 
of  his  children,  about  whom,  by-the-bye,  he  proses  horribly. 
Face  indicates  a  bon  vivant,  flushed  with  a  purple  grace.  Tells 
me  he  has  heard  much  of  me,  and  that  the  English  here  like 
me  better  than  my  predecessor  Hughes,  (who  was  a  great  favor- 
ite,) although  they  say  I  am  a  very  different  person.  He  is 
scarcely  gone  when  Mr.  Taylor,  and  his  son-in-law  Mr.  Lee,  (a 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS.  35 

very  gentleman-like  person,)  call.  They  are  to  dine  at  Prince 
Auguste's  to-day;  the  company  all  new  comers, — Count  and 
Countess  de  Latour  Maubourg,  the  Des  Voeux,  etc.  At  4  walk 
out  to  get  some  cards  of  invitation  printed.  After  dinner,  call 
in  my  carriage  and  take  Mr.  T*****  B******  to  drive  through 
the  forest  of  Soignes.  The  recent  rain  has  made  the  country 
and  the  woods  delightfully  fresh.  At  three-quarters  past  9  go 
to  Lady  Charlotte  Fitzgerald's,  where  I  am  presented  to  Mrs. 
Taylor  and  the  Marquis  and  Marchioness  of  Hastings.  He  is  a 
tall  and  well-looking  young  man,  apparently  of  about  27  or  28, 
with  a  decidedly  patrician  air  and  address.  She  is  lively,  talk- 
ative, with  a  certain  confidence  and  even  boldness  in  her  man- 
ners, at  the  same  time,  when  she  took  up  the  guitar  to  sing,  (she 
sang  a  German  air  very  prettily,)  she  told  me  to  remark  how 
her  very  fingers  trembled  with  fear.  Mrs.  Lee  sang,  also,  sev- 
eral German  airs, — one  of  them  charmingly.  Miss  Freke's  Italian 
song  not  bad.  Mrs.  Freke  invites  me  to  her  house  on  Friday, 
and  Lady  Hastings  to-morrow.  Mr.  Fitzgerald  presented  Lord 
Hastings  to  me,  by  his  lordship's  request ;  for  I  never  (unless  it 
be  inevitable)  make  an  advance  to  the  English  or  my  own  coun- 
trymen. 

In  driving,  Mr.  B.  tells  me  he  finds  the  United  States  triste, 
and  repeats  what  Lord  Lyndhurst  said  there  some  thirty-five 
years  ago :  "This  country  is  rustic,  without  being  moral". 
Talks  to  me  again  of  the  pleasure  he  feels  in  the  reputation 
of  our  corps  diplomatique.  Proses  horribly,  though  he  seems 
a  good  creature.  Concurs  in  the  gloomy  views  of  the  pre- 
sent state  of  England,  but  not  quite  so  tragical  as  the  others. 
Thinks  the  debt  will  go ;  but  doesn't  apprehend  any  attack  on 
property,  though,  he  says,  nothing  can  be  so  ferocious  and  un- 
feeling as  the  under  classes  of  English.  Party  given  at  her 
lodgings,  by  Miss  Cramer,  to  which  I  am  not  invited ;  I  think  I 
can  guess  the  cause. 

6th  June.  Go  out  at  3.  Call  on  Miss  B******, — a  nice  girl ; 
promise  to  make  up  a  soiree  for  her.  Call  on  Lord  Hastings. 
Dine  at  Court.  Meet  him  there  again  with  his  lady.  She  was 
Lady  Grey  de  Ruth ven,  a  peeress  in  her  own  right,  with  some 
two  or  three  thousand  a  year ;  very  much  spoiled,  her  parents 
having  died  when  she  was  young,  and  living  with  a  deaf  guar- 
dian, or  something  of  the  sort,  contracted  the  habit  of  talking 
very  loud,  and,  what  is  worse,  talking  politics.  Lord  Hastings 
himself  is  the  quietest  creature  in  the  world,  and  has  change* 

tout  cela.     She  has  a  little  terrier,  named ,  which  she 

makes  a  great  deal  of,  kisses,  etc.  When  the  singing  was  going 
on,  at  Lady  Charlotte's  yesterday,  this  little  brute  was  set  upon 
a  small  table,  where  it  stood  stock-still  and  looked  with  the  most 


36  DIARY  OP  BRUSSELS. 

edifying  gravity.  At  dinner  she  sat  next  the  king ;  the  Duke 
of  Orleans  had  Lady  Wm.  Paget  on  his  right.  This  young 
Prince  is  just  returned  from  England,  where  he  has  been  very 
much  fH6.  The  Prince  de  Reuss  Lobenstein,  or  the  Lord  knows 
what,  (he  furnishes  seven  men  for  the  defence  of  the  holy  Roman 
empire,  and  is,  of  course,  of  immense  consequence  in  the  balance 
of  Europe,  being  as  much  a  sovereign  as  Louis  Philippe,)  sat  on 
the  left  of  Lady  Hastings, — then  Madame  de  Stassart,  between 
whom  and  Mrs.  Taylor  I  was  placed.  Find  the  latter  an  amia- 
ble English  lady.  Tell  Lady  Wm.  Paget  I  expect  to  see  her 
at  my  house,  and  count  on  her  keeping  up  the  ball  with  spirit. 
Seems  delighted  (she  is  extravagantly  fond  of  dancing)  and 
promises  to  do  so.  After  dinner  dress  for  Lady  (Dowager)  Hast- 
ings' soiree.  Go  at  three-quarters  past  9.  Some  foreigners, — 
Mesd.  d'Hoogvorst,  Vilain  XIV.,  and  de  Stassart,  Countess  de 
Latour  Maubourg,  and  Madame  du  Val  de  Beaulieu.  Talk  much 
with  all  the  young  Lady  Hastings1,  and,  having  passed  an  agree- 
able soiree,  retire  last,  like  Hesperus,  with  Mr.  Des  Voeux.  On 
the  landing-place  of  the  steps,  see  Lady  Wm.  Paget,  Lady  de 
Rottenburg  and  Miss  Morris,  with  Count  Lenowski,  waiting  for 
their  carriage.  Offer  mine  and  take  them  home.  Talk  of  Prince 
Ricefs  (so  pronounced  here)  passion  for  Miss  Morris.  Lady 
William  and  her  mama  say  it  is  all  over  on  both  sides  ;  that  he 
is  a  bore  in  conversation,  insisting  on  speaking  broken  English, 
etc.,  etc.  Return  home  at  three-quarters  past  11,  and  do  not  get 
asleep  until  1. 

7th  June.  Opening  of  the  Chambers  at  12  by  the  king  in 
person.  All  the  corps  diplomatique  present,  and  Madame  la 
Comtesse  de  Latour  Maubourg  to  adorn  it.  King  keeps  us  wait- 
ing fully  an  hour  ;  it  is  very  warm,  and,  in  a  court  dress,  quite 
intolerable.  His  Majesty  comes  on  horseback,  with  a  brilliant 
Hat  major.  Received  with  no  great  rapture  by  the  crowd,  [not 
crowd,  ior  I  asked  M.  de  L.  M.  if  the  populace  had  been  ecarte 
on  purpose,)  but  with  a  good  hearty  round  of  applause  within 
the  Chamber.  Salutes  very  politely  and  takes  his  seat  on  the 
throne,  and,  having  previously  covered  himself,  proceeds  to  read 
the  discourse,  of  which,  in  the  diplomatic  tribune,  we  do  not 
hear  one  single  word.  The  paper  seemed  to  me  to  tremble  in 
his  hand.     The  speech  is  short,  and  we  are  soon  dismissed. 

Preparations  for  my  soiree  dansante  turn  the  house  upside 
down.  I  am  put  out  of  my  dining  hall,  of  which  they  are  wax 
ing  the  floor,  etc.  In  the  evening,  go  to  a  party  at  Mrs.  Freke's ; 
every  body  there,  which  saves  me  almost  all  my  cards  of  invi- 
tation.    I  invite  about  a  hundred  people. 

Two  copies  of  the  speech  sent  me :  fair  prospects  held  out  in 
it.     Surtout,  that  no  more  taxation  is  necessary. 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS.  37 

8th  June.  Receive  a  long  letter  from  Grimke  about  "Chris- 
tianism",  and  his  works  and  views, — provoked  by  a  discourse 
of  a  Mr.  d'Aubigny  which  I  sent  him  from  Paris  ;  also  a  letter 
(in  German)  from  Mein  Herr  somebody  at  Frankfort,  informing 
me  (as  I  guess)  that  he  has  expedie  to  me  twenty-four  bottles  of 
Johannisberger  No.  1,  presented  to  me  by  Mr.  Marks,  consul  at 
Ostend.  Mr.  Des  Voeux  calls  ;  talks  about  Greek  classics,  etc.; 
admires  my  house.  I  tell  him  the  one  next  door  is  also  to  let. 
Go  with  him  to  see  it.  Says  he  wishes  he  had  not  taken  another. 
Seems  disposed  to  get  off  if  he  can  and  be  my  neighbor,  which 
would  be  very  agreeable  to  me.  Take  a  quiet  dinner  up-stairs, 
(dining-room  being  still  in  the  hands  of  the  invaders,)  and  after 
dinner  drive  out.  On  my  return  feel  unwell,  as  if  grippe, — 
perhaps  only  want  of  sleep,  for  I  have  not  slept  well  for  some 
nights. 

Should  have  mentioned  that  Mr.  Serruys,  secretary  of  the 
Belgian  legation  at  Berlin,  and  brother  of  the  American  vice- 
consul  at  Ostend,  called  and  talked  a  good  deal  about  the  state 
of  Europe.  He  was  in  Italy  during  the  revolution,  and,  I  trow, 
did  not  like  it  much. 

Mr.  B******,  also,  called  and  was  admitted  (contrabande), 
whilst  I  was  taking  my  German  lesson,  the  which  put  me  into 
no  small  fume,  for  it  drove  all  the  parts  of  speech  pell-mell  out 
of  my  head. 

9th  June.  Fete  Dieu.  I  go  out  to  see  the  procession  at  12 
to  St.  Gudule  (the  cathedral).  In  at  the  death  :  see  it  just  as  it 
approaches  the  church  and  enters  for  dismission :  banners  not 
very  splendid  :  good  music.  Wonderful  resources,  those  of  the 
Catholic  church,  for  influencing  the  imaginations  of  men. 

Warm  in  walking.  Take  a  bath  ;  better  after  it.  Dine  alone. 
After  dinner  take  a  long  drive  en  caleche  with  Mr.  Seymour, 
and  spend  the  evening  with  his  family.  They  tell  me  all  the 
gentlemen  are  begging  for  invitations  to  my  ball ;  but  Tom, 
Dick  and  Harry  may  go  to  the  devil,  for  me.  Return  home 
early  to  take  a  preparatory  and  proportionate  sleep.  Helas ! 
"Why,  gentle  sleep,"  etc.,  etc.  I  was  still  awake  at  2  in  the 
morning, — too  hot  with  a  blanket,  too  cold  without. 

D33  Anniversary  of  my  departure  from  Charleston. 

10th  June.  Invited  to  dine  at  Prince  Auguste's  to-day.  Call 
on  Sir  Robert  Adair  to  ask  the  honor  of  his  sister's  (Mrs.  Clav- 
ering)  company  this  evening.  Says  she  is  too  infirm  to  go  out. 
Shews  me  his  last  letter  to  Lord  Palmerston  ;  extremely  well 
written  and  sagacious.  While  I  am  there  a  lunch  is  served  in 
another  room,  (3  o'clock),  to  which  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Clavering  come 
down.     I  am  presented  to  them,  and  find  her  a  very  amiable 


38  DIARY  OP  BRUSSELS. 

lady,  of  precisely  the  same  style  of  manners  as  her  brother. 
Told  me  if  she  were  twenty  years  younger  (she  is  seventy-five) 
she  would  come  to  my  ball  with  pleasure.  Presently  Sir  Robert, 
after  ordering  another  cover  to  be  laid,  goes  out  and  returns  with 

,  who  had  been  unwilling  to  present  himself.     Received 

with  great  kindness  by  his  sister.  After  some  conversation,  I 
take  leave ;  as  I  am  going  out  Sir  Robert  tells  me,  in  a  low  tone 
of  voice  and  with  great  kindness  of  manner,  that  they  are  going 
to  dine  (they  four)  enfamille  to-day,  and  asks  me,  as  my  house 
must  be  in  confusion,  if  I  won't  join  them.  Tell  him  I  am  en- 
gaged to  the  Prince. 

Receive  a  sweet  little  note  from  my  sweet  little  Lady  William, 
requesting  an  invitation  for  two  uvery  good  dancers."  Write 
her  for  answer,  that  her  wishes  are  commands  for  me  always, 
but  especially  on  an  occasion  when  she  is  to  have  every  thing 
her  own  way. 

Dine  at  5  with  the  Prince.  Present  Lady  Hastings,  with  Lady 
Selina  and  Lady  Adelaide,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Seymour  and  their 
daughters,  Sir  George  and  Capt.  Hamilton,  the  Duked'Ursel  (the 
Prince's  nephew),  Percy  Doyle,  Sir  Henry  Seton,  etc. 

Weather  very  warm.  After  dinner,  I  return  chez  moi  and 
repose  a  little, — then  make  an  evening  toilette.  At  half-past  8, 
M.  and  Mad.  de  Stassart  come  in.  Madame  tells  me  1  had  not 
named  any  hour,  and  that  is  8  o'clock  according  to  Belgic  usage. 
After  a  long  interval,  which  I  contrived  to  fill  up  very  well  by 
talking  and  showing  them  the  preparations  for  dancing,  one  or 
two  gentlemen  drop  in  ;  but  it  was  10  o'clock  before  the  body 
of  my  guests,  principally  English,  (about  one  hundred  in  all,) 
come  in.  As  soon  as  Lady  Wm.  Paget  enters  dancing  begins, 
and  continues  in  the  most  spirited  manner  until  2  o'clock.  I 
received  up-stairs,  but  they  danced  on  the  rez-de-chaussee,  where 
every  thing  had  been  done  to  make  the  thing  go  off  pleasantly 
and  with  the  greatest  success.  The  ladies  cried  out  a  thousand 
times  charming,  delightful,  etc.,  and  said  there  had  been  no  such 
ball  at  Brussels  this  many  a  day. 

1  had  slept  very  little  the  night  before,  and  the  breaking  of 
my  rest  another  night  made  me  nervous. 

1 1th  June.  At  rising  in  the  morning  (9  o'clock)  find  it  very 
warm,  with  the  wind  blowing  a  perfect  hurricane  and  driving 
clouds  of  dust  before  it. 

Take  a  lesson  of  my  German  master ;  begin  to  possess  the 
principles  of  the  declensions. 

Pass  the  rest  of  the  day  in  writing  letters  to  America,  to  send 
by  the  English  minister's  courier  to-day, — my  mother,  Cruger, 
etc.  Take  a  walk  at  4  in  the  park  ;  at  5  get  into  a  warm  bath  ; 
and  at  six  dine  at  Court.     Large  party, — Duke  of  Orleans  still 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS.  39 

there.  Mad.  de  Latour  Maubourg  seated  on  the  left  of  the  king ; 
Lady  Hastings  on  the  right  of  the  duke.  Have  to  go  to  Court 
in  a  carriage  not  so  fine  as  my  own,  which  is  repairing.  Return 
home  at  half-past  8,  and  am  asleep  at  half-past  9. 

Note.  One  of  the  letters  I  write  to-day  is  to  Mr.  A.  H.  Everett, 
in  answer  to  one  of  his  dated  the  26th  July,  1832,  which,  after 
wandering  about  like  a  ghost  in  limbo  for  nearly  a  tvjelve-month, 
is  just  come  to  hand.  Mem. — Mention  in  it  with  horror  (and 
terror  for  the  avenir  of  our  country)  the  ignominious  assault 
made  upon  the  President  of  the  United  States,  by  a  brutal  wretch 
of  the  name  of  Randolph,  lately  dismissed  from  the  service. 
This  is  one  of  the  things  that  shew  how  the  ochlocracy  of  the 
country  is  going  to  work.  There  is  something  terrific  in  the 
idea  of  10  or  20,000,000  of  men  united,  that  is  crowded  together 
in  the  same  body-politic,  each  with  his  hand  lifted  up  against 
his  neighbour,  and  his  foot  upon  all  law  and  authority ! 

12th  June.  Storm  continues,  but  it  is  grown  quite  cool.  Pass 
the  day  most  unprofitably.  Receive  some  calls, — from  Mr. 
B******^  wj10  can>t  g0  £or  tke  wither  .  Capt.  Chesters  of  the  Brit- 
ish army,  who  was  presented  to  me  at  my  ball  by  M.  Duval  de 
Beaulieu.  He  has  been  a  long  time  in  South-America,  and  gives 
any  thing  but  a  flattering  description  of  its  distracted  condition ; 
one,  in  the  blessings  of  which  my  own  country  seems  so  desir- 
ous of  becoming  a  partaker. 

After  dinner  go  out  to  drive,  and  take  up  Mr.  B******.  Make 
the  tour  of  the  chateau  of  Lacken.  Find  it  most  uncomfortably 
cold  in  returning  with  our  faces  to  the  wind. 

At  10  go  to  a  party  at  M.  de  Bethune's.  Madame  looking 
very  pretty.  Receive  the  congratulations  and  thanks  of  all  the 
ladies,  who  say  they  have  talked  of  nothing  else  but  my  ball 
since  Monday ;  that  it  has  spoiled  them  for  all  others,  etc.,  etc. 
Being  still  unwell  from  loss  of  sleep,  return  early — half-past  11. 

Note.  Fresh  discontents  among  my  servants, — quarrelling 
about  the  division  of  the  spoils,  I  suppose, — having  nothing  else 
to  do ;  and,  being  dissatisfied  unless  each  is  allowed  to  give  or 
sell  to  his  friends  what  remains  after,  they  are  all  gorged  with 
the  abundance  of  my  house.  They  are  execrable  vermin,  to  be 
sure. 

13th  June.  Take  a  lesson  in  German.  Receive  a  letter  from 
Mr.  Charles  Warley  of  Charleston,  informing  me  he  has  shipped 
a  case  of  Madeira  wine  to  me  by  a  vessel  just  arrived  at  An- 
twerp. In  the  evening  get  another  from  somebody  at  Antwerp 
on  the  same  subject.  Write  myself  to  Mr.  Patterson  about  it. 
Payment  of  accounts  of  ball, — rather  more  than  I  expected ; 
however,  the  thing  succeeded,  and  that's  enough.     Go  out  at  3. 


40  DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 

Call  on  Miss  Doyle, — out.  Dine  very  moderately  ;  take  a  drive 
after  dinner  and  a  nap.  Go,  at  10,  to  a  party  at  the  French  min- 
ister's. Every  body  there,  but  the  ball  not  gay.  Ladies  all 
talking  of  mine  still.  One  of  them  tells  me  its  fame  has  gone 
to  Antwerp.  I  am  almost  the  whole  evening  with  the  Lady 
Hastings',  especially  Lady  Adelaide,  who  has  a  vein  of  good- 
humored  pleasantry,  which,  united  with  such  perfect  gentleness, 
is  very  charming.     In  bed  at  1,  and  sleep  profoundly. 

I4tf/i  June.  Send  to  Messrs.  Damoot  &  Co.  for  money  ;  they 
send  me  back  with  it  a  draft  on  me  from  Charleston,  forwarded 
by  Baring,  Brothers — accepted. 

Walk  out  at  half-past  2  and  don't  return  until  half-past  4 ; 
cheapen  porcelain,  plate,  etc.  Meet  M.  and  Mad.  de  Maubourg ; 
tells  rne  her  bouquet  is  all  fane.  Tell  them  I  will  replace  it 
when  I  go  home,  and  I  do. 

After  dinner  go  to  drive, — Mr.  Seymour  with  me ;  "reason 
high"  of  government,  philosophy,  etc.  Tell  him  I  think  justice 
has  not  yet  been  done  to  the  depth  and  power  of  Aristophanes, 
the  great  political  satirist  of  Athens.  Mention  my  idea  of  the 
"Clouds" — that  its  purpose  is  to  shew  that,  if  men  affect  to 
reason  about  every  thing,  they  infallibly  end  in  libertinism, — 
tfavrwv  ^riTouvrsc:  Xo/ov,  etc.  etc.  Am  not  very  well ;  go  to  bed  at 
10  and  sleep  soundly. 

15th  June.  Another  day  not  very  profitably  spent.  Receive 
two  letters  from  Cologne  and  Coblentz,  apropos  of  a  case  of  Jo- 
hannisberg  wine  sent  to  me  by  Mr.  Marks.  A  Mr.  Charles  Davis 
of  New- York,  a  young  gentleman,  who  has  been  some  time  in 
England,  calls  for  a  new  passport.  I  give  him  one,  and  we  talk 
some  time  about  the  assault  upon  the  President.  He  says  he  is 
ashamed  to  look  foreigners  in  the  face,  yet  (such  are  the  illusions 
of  youth)  talks  in  the  next  breath  of  our  giving  the  world  "les- 
sons", and  expatiates  upon  our  navigation  and  commerce,  etc., 
as  if  we  owed  all  this  bonheur  materiel  to  our  own  wisdom. 
Says  he  is  opposed  to  Mr.  Van  Buren  because  he  is  a  democratic 
demagogue,  and  wishes  a  Southern  man  elected,  with  a  view  to 
the  dignity  of  the  government.  He  is  going  to  Antwerp.  1 
ask  when  he  will  be  back,  and  tell  him  I  shall  be  glad  to  see 
him  at  a  diner  sans  f agon. 

Dine  at  Prince  Auguste's, — a  diner  d'hommes.  Mrs.  Claver- 
ing  there, — the  rest  as  usual  ;  ten  persons  in  all.  After  dinner 
take  a  long  drive.  Not  well, — some  lurking  cold ;  go  to  bed 
early,  or  rather  lie  down  on  the  bed  in  my  dressing  gown  at  10, 
and  sleep  so  until  12,  when  I  awake  and  undress. 

Mem.  At  the  Prince's,  Mr.  Taylor  tells  me  a  long  story  about 
the  Prince  of  Orange's  hostility  to,  and  rupture  with,  the  corps 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS.  41 

diplomatique,  as  such ;  and  how  he  refused  to  meet  them  any- 
where ;  and  how  Sir  Charles  Bagot  refused  to  meet  him  in  turn ; 
and  how  the  king  interposed  ;  and  how  Sir  Charles  (he  was  an 
ambassador)  wrote  to  his  government,  who  approved  what  he 
had  done  (comme  de  raison) ;  and  how  afterwards  the  Prince, 
in  the  park,  took  no  notice  of  his  bow,  etc.,  etc.  This  strange 
conduct  of  H.  R.  H.  is  accounted  for  by  several  offences  given 
to  him  by  certain  individuals,  ci-devant  members  of  that  body ; 
as,  for  instance,  the  Austrian  minister's  (Metternich's  pimp,  on- 
dit)  reporting  to  his  Court  a  political  conversation  of  the  Prince's, 
which  he  overheard,  and,  on  its  coming  back  to  this  country, 
causing  the  king  to  scold  H.  R.  H.,  etc.,  etc.,  etc.  This  must 
have  been  very  pleasant  indeed  for  the  Court  circle  of  the  day, 
and  shews  the  Prince  of  Orange  to  have  been  a  petulant  and 
trifling  fool,  utterly  unfit  to  be  even  an  heir  apparent  to  his  fa- 
ther's throne,  or  to  associate  with  men  of  the  world. 

l§th  June — Sunday.  Read  to-day  a  part  of  the  correspond- 
ence between  Jefferson  and  that  worthy  representative  of  the 
French  republic,  citizen  Genet. 

Write  to  my  sister  (Mary)  and  to  Grimke.  Go  out  in  my 
carriage  and  make  some  calls, — nobody  at  home.  Afterwards 
take  a  walk  in  the  park.  While  there  fall  in  with  Miss  C.  and 
Miss  D.;  join  them  and  have  a  long  flirting  talk  with  the  latter, 
who  is  going  to  Aix-la-Chapelle  on  Tuesday,  and  threatens  not 
to  come  back  to  Brussels.  She  is  very  pretty,  and  I  almost  in 
love.  Shake  her  hand  and  press  it  most  fondly;  go  home 
and  think  of  her  all  the  evening  ;  promise  her  a  ball,  if  she  will 
come  back,  in  the  autumn. 

After  dinner  a  heavy  rain  ;  stay  at  home  and  write. 

17th  June.     Get  a  parcel  from  Washington  by  way  of  London 

and  Ostend  to-day.     A  Mr. ,  born  at  New-Orleans,  (where 

he  has  not  been  for  a  long  time,)  comes  to  me  for  a  new  pass- 
port, his  own  being  out  of  date  ;  give  him  one. 

At  4  walk  out  in  the  park  with  the  young  Count  de  Beaufort, 
who  talks  to  me  a  long  time  and  agreeably  about  the  Court  of 
Charles  X.,  in  which  he  was  a  page.  Says  Louis  XVIII.  told 
his  brother  what  would  happen,  if  he  persisted  in  construing 
the  charter  after  his  fashion. 

Dine  at  M.  Goblet's,  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs,  with  some 
twenty  odd  other  victims, — among  them  Count  and  Countess 
Latour  Maubourg,  Sir  Robert  Adair,  etc.;  dinner  bad  and  ser- 
vice worse. — all  sorts  of  China  and  glass  but  the  right  one,  etc. 
But  en  revanche,  both  host  and  hostess  exceedingly  amiable,  and 
sorry  I  am  that  this  stingy  government  doesn't  allow  them  some- 
thing more  than  the  pittance  of  a  salary,  iorfrais  de  represen- 
vol.  i. — 6 


42  DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 

tation.  At  dinner,  sit  between  M.  Lebeau,  Minister  of  Justice, 
and  M.  Nothomb,  Secretaire-General  and  author  of  the  Essay 
on  the  Revolution.  Gives  me  an  account  of  his  introduction  to 
Talleyrand,  and  dining  en  petit  comitc  at  his  house  in  London. 
Sat  next  to  him  and  his  heart  went  pit-a-pat.  Is  still  mightily  re- 
buked by  his  genius,  and  thinks  him  a  conjuror.  Talk  of  Mon- 
tesquieu, of  whose  political  philosophy  I  speak  slightingly.  To 
my  surprise  both  my  assessors  agree  with  me,  and  say  no  man, 
that  hasn't  seen  a  revolution,  or  something  like  it,  has  a  just 
conception  of  the  "Leviathan."  I  say  ditto,  and  tell  them  that 
is  just  the  reason  why  the  ancients  knew  more  about  govern- 
ment than  the  moderns,  and  democrats  are  always  deeper  politi- 
cians than  moralists,  etc.  Burke  I  mention  as  a  sort  of  exception 
and  a  prodigy.  Nothomb  agrees  ;  but,  Lebeau  says,  owing,  he 
supposes,  to  the  translator,  he  finds  it  difficult  to  read  the  "Re- 
flections." I  tell  him  the  translator  must  have  a  genius  for 
distortion,  for  the  original  is  incomparable  both  for  thought  and 
eloquence. 

ISth  June.  Dine  at  Court,  to-day ;  ambassadors'  day.  After 
dinner  (at  which,  by-the-bye,  the  music  was  remarkably  good,) 

the  two  little boys,  apparently  about  1C  or  12  years,  are 

made  to  play  on  the  violin  in  the  apartment  next  to  the  drawing- 
room,  the  folding  doors  being  thrown  open.  Their  performance 
is  prodigious,  and  not  tours  deforce  merely,  but  sweet  music, 
which,  I  suppose,  is  beaten  out  of  them  by  their  father,  more  a 
mercenary  than  merciful. 

In  the  evening  go  to  Lady  Charlotte  Fitzgerald's,  where  there 
is  a  little  reunion.  See  Lady  Flora  for  the  first  time  since  her 
late  illness.     She  offers  me  her  hand,  which  I  press  fondly. 

Letter  from  Mr.  Patterson  asking  advice  officially. 

Ferrari  gives  notice  of  quitting  to-morrow. 

19th  June.  After  getting  through  my  morning  work  go  to 
the  Chamber  of  Deputies,  where  I  expected  to  see  some  acquaint- 
ance, and  among  them  hoped  Lady  Flora  would  be.  Am  not 
disappointed.  None  of  the  corps  being  there  but  Mr.  Des  Voeux 
and  I,  we  invite  them  into  the  tribune  diplomatique.  Subject 
before  the  Chamber,  the  "address"  in  reply  to  the  king's  discourse. 
When  I  go  in  Henry  de  Bronetere,  the  cleverest  man  of  the 
opposition,  is  speaking  from  a  paper ;  good  voice,  the  delivery 
spoiled  by  the  embarrassment  of  reading.  Mr.  Lebeau  replies ; 
reads  too, — bitches  a  good  speech  by  it.  After  he  sits  down, 
great  hubbub  about  putting  the  question.  Mr.  Gendebier  rises 
and  bellows  for  some  time  with  the  lungs  of  a  bull.  The  debate 
becomes  exclusively  personal,  and  very  unworthy  of  the  place 
and  the  occasion.     Mr.  Lebeau  replies  warmly  and  forcibly  ex- 


DIARY  OP  BRUSSELS. 


43 


tempore  ;  much  better  than  his  first  speech.  Says  he  has  noth- 
ing to  do  with  any  newspaper.  M.  Nothomb  follows,  screaming 
like  a  woman  in  a  fury  ;  owns  that  he  is  concerned  in  the  "In- 
dependent", but  pleads  to  the  jurisdiction  of  the  House  over  the 
press.  The  House  ultimately  adjourns  the  matter  over  to  the 
next  day. 

Dine  at  Prince  Auguste's.  When  I  am  going  to  make  my 
toilette,  see  Mr.  Drury  (my  parson)  passing.  Tells  me  Mrs. 
Trollope  is  arrived,  and  wishes  to  be  acquainted  with  me.  De- 
cline the  honor.  At  the  Prince's,  a  diner  oVhommes.  In  the 
course  of  conversation  after  dinner,  mention  that  Mrs.  Trollope 
is  come.  Prince  delighted  at  the  intelligence  ;  asks  Mr.  Seymour 
to  bring  him  acquainted  with  her.  I  tell  him  it  is  cruel  of  him. 
He  says  she  has  so  much  esprit  and  fun.  Asks  if  I  have  any 
objection  to  see  her.  I  tell  him  yes.  He  speaks  then  of  America  ; 
says  he  has  never,  in  all  his  life,  met  with  any  American  travel- 
ling, except  one,  about  twenty  years  ago,  in  Vienna.  I  tell  him 
it  is  not  that  they  do  not  travel,  but  that  they  have  no  means  of 
making  acquaintances  in  Europe.  Signifies  plainly  enough  that 
he  thinks  Mrs.  T's.  account  to  be  depended  on ;  excepts,  of 
course,  men  of  learning,  who,  he  says,  belong  to  no  country. 
At  last,  shakes  me  warmly  by  the  hand,  and  tells  me,  as  our  rela- 
tions are  quite  confidential,  I  may  do  just  as  I  please  about  meet- 
ing her  or  not. 

I  go  away  deeply  depressed, — not  so  much  by  the  foolish 
ideas  entertained  of  us  by  Europeans,  as  by  the  unquestionable 
fact  that  the  present  generation  are,  in  every  respect,  (socially,) 
less  cultivated  than  our  glorious  fathers,  thanks  to  the  Arminius 
of  our  institutions,  St.  Thomas  of  Cantingbury,  whose  demo- 
cracy, doubly  rectified  in  France,  was  breathed  with  the  breath 
of  life  into  our  new-born  Constitution, — like  a  child  inheriting 
the  morbus  gallicus  from  a  debauched  father. 

Take  a  sweet  and  long  drive  out  into  the  prairie  at  the  south 
of  the  city,  where  I  had  never  been  before.  Hay  just  mowing. 
Delicious  evening.  At  9  go  out  again  and  walk  in  the  twilight 
until  10. 

Send  newspapers  to  the  government,  and  write  to  Mr.  Pater- 
son  that  I  have  no  information  to  give  him  on  the  points  stated. 

20th  June.  A  case  of  Rhenish  announced  to-day  as  deposited 
in  one  of  the  entrepots.  I  am  charged  in  the  carrier's  account 
with  droits  oVentree  and  accise.  Refuse  to  pay.  Send  my  ser- 
vant, who  comes  back  with  a  request,  on  behalf  of  the  officer  of 
the  revenue,  that  I  send  a  written  declaration  that  the  wine  is 
for  my  own  use.  Do  so.  Returns  and  tells  me,  notwithstanding 
this  trouble,  I  must  pay  the  account,  the  carrier  having  advanced 


44  DIARY  OP  BRUSSELS. 

the  whole  amount.  Swear  I  will  not,  and  write  to  the  Minister 
of  Foreign  Affairs  to  claim  my  privilege. 

Attend  the  Chamber  of  Representatives  at  2,  and  stay  still 
half-past  3.  Missed  Roger's  (Minister  of  the  Interior)  defence 
of  the  destitutions  of  those  who,  opposing  the  ministry  system- 
atically and  violently,  still  hold  on  to  their  offices.  Hear  Gen- 
debier  growling  a  VaccoutumGe.  Quite  a  humbug  this  frondeur, 
and  very  tiresome,  besides  his  unreasonableness.  Nothomb  next 
rises,  and  makes  a  very  good  speech  for  a  Belgian.  Before  he 
finishes  I  go  off,  leaving  M.  de  Latour  Maubourg  dozing  on  his 
hand, — no  great  proof  this  of  what  I  say. 

Take  a  bath,  and  dine  at  half-past  5  at  the  French  ambassa- 
dor's, en  petit  comite.  Present,  Sir  Robert  Adair,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Clavering,  Lady  Wm.  Paget  and  her  mother,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Des 
Voeux,  Capt.  Hamilton,  Casimir  Perier,  and  myself.  I  sit  on 
the  left  of  Madame  and  talk  a  great  deal  to  her,  about  her  father 
(M.  Daru),  the  theatre,  modern  French  literature,  (which  she 
dislikes,  as  I  do, — I  mean  their  romantique  school,)  Taglioni, 
etc.,  etc. 

After  dinner  take  a  drive,  and  at  10  return  to  the  French  le- 
gation, where  Madame  receives.  Not  a  great  many  people.  See 
for  the  first  time  Mademoiselle  Desprez,  daughter  of  the  General ; 
charming  young  person,  about  17  or  18.  At  half-past  10  or  so, 
the  Seymours  come  in.  Madame  has  evidently  heard  something 
spiteful  about  her  daughter  Emma,  who  is  guilty  of  being  a 
sweet  girl,  with  remarkable  talents,  and  very  much  admired  by 
the  admired,  without  any  ambition  to  please.  I  have  a  great 
deal  to  say  to  her,  by  way  of  consolation,  and  remind  her  of 
what  the  wise  man  says  of  the  fate  of  those  who  are  generally 
praised.     In  bed  at  12. 

2\st  June.  Pass  this  morning,  as  so  many  others  lately, 
operose  nihil  agendo.  This  comes  of  learning  German,  the 
which,  together  with  the  time  I  spend  in  writing  this  journal, 
notes,  etc.,  especially  re-translating  diplomatic  papers  in  to  French, 
consumes  the  hours  between  1]  and  2,  when  I  am  fatigued,  and, 
if  I  go  out,  feel  too  much  dissipated  to  engage  afterwards  in 
any  serious  occupation.  Go  to  Summerhauzen's  and  buy  Wolf's 
Odyssey  and  Marten's  Guide  (new  edition). 

Dine  at  home  to-day.  After  dinner  call  on  Mr.  Seymour  and 
take  him  out  to  drive.  Go  there  in  the  evening  late,  and  stay 
half  an  hour.  I  had  not  made  them  a  call  for  nearly  a  fortnight 
before.     Mr.  Morse,  a  young  American,  enters. 

22c/  June.  Morning  as  usual.  German  lesson  ;  while  at  it 
two  letters  come  in,  one  from  my  sister  (M.),  the  other  from  Mr. 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS.  45 

King, — the  latter  in  reply  to  my  second  to  him.  Felt,  as  usual, 
excited  by  news  from  home.  Go  out,  at  2,  en  caleche.  Make  a 
little  purchase  of  champagne  coolers,  plated,  etc.  Forward  a 
letter  from  his  father  to  McMillan  King.  As  I  am  returning  up 
the  montagne  de  la  cour,  am  met  by  Mr.  Drury,  who  stops  me, 
telling  me  he  had  sent  my  review  of  Hall's  Travels  to  Mrs. 
Trollope,  whom  he  points  out  to  me  as  the  "lady  in  the  green 
hat  before  us."  Asks  if  I  happen  to  be  going  to  dine  at  the  am- 
bassador's :  tell  him,  not.  Says  he  had  hoped  I  was,  for  so  I 
should  have  met  her  there.  Drive  on  and  pass  her.  Get  down 
at  the  gate  of  the  park,  near  the  Hotel  de  Bellevue.  Am  remind- 
ed by  my  footman  that  I  am  to  dine  at  the  Prince's  at  half-past 
4.  Get  up  again  into  my  carriage.  As  I  am  doing  so,  the 
Trollope  passes,  and,  looking  at  me,  I  have  a  full  view  of  her 
face  and  form  ;  the  former  rather  comely  for  her  age,  the  latter 
stout  and  gross,  the  whole  person  excessively  vulgar.  Call  on 
Mr.  Morse. 

Make  a  toilette  and  dine  at  the  Prince's.  Two  artists  there  : 
Cartigny,  the  actor  and  a  director  of  the  theatre,  and  Fetis,  the 
king's  maitre  de  chapelle  :  Mr.  Seymour,  Mr.  Taylor,  the  Ham- 
iltons,  the  Prince's  secretary  and  I.  At  table,  the  Prince  asks 
Fetis  what  he  thought  of  ancient  music  as  compared  with  the 
modern ;  whereupon,  with  a  loud  voice,  an  artist's  real,  and, 
apparently,  a  good  deal  of  information  of  a  higher  order  than  I 
expected  to  find  in  him,  he  proceeds  to  shew  that  the  difference 
was  between  the  most  simple  yet  refined  melody,  and  the  richest 
harmony  of  a  modern  orchestra,  etc.  I  am  appealed  to  about 
the  sources  of  information  on  the  subject,  and  mention  the  col- 
lection of  the  Greek  musical  writers,  published  by  Foulis. 

Mem.     I  shall  look  into  the  matter  myself. 

After  dinner  call  at  Bellevue,  and  ask  Mr.  Morse  if  he  and  his 
friend,  whom  he  mentions,  (a  Mr.  Rochester,)  will  take  a  drive ; 
they  get  up  with  me  and  do  so.  Mr.  M.  is  of  New-Orleans, 
whiskered,  like  a  pard  and  rather  tawny,  tall,  thin  and  with  a 
nasal  twang ;  in  short,  I  should  have  sworn  him  an  American 
at  any  distance.  His  compagnon  de  voyage  wears  a  cap,  and, 
as  soon  as  he  is  seated,  takes  out  his  penknife  and  begins  to 
pick  his  finger  nails  with  that  useful  little  implement.  Both 
speak  so  loudly  that  I  am  quite  stunned.  Talk  politics,  and, 
after  an  hour  and  a  half's  drive,  I  set  them  down  again  at  their 
hotel,  having  previously  invited  them  to  dine  with  me  to-mor- 
row :  an  invitation  which  they  do  me  the  honor  to  accept,  and, 
bowing  with  gravity,  take  leave. 

At  9  go  to  the  Prince's  again,  where  there  is  a  little  soiree, 
with  the  little  musical  monsters,  the  Eichorns,  (9  and  11  years 
old,)  whom  I  had  heard  at  Court  the  other  day.  The  Lady 
Hastings,  with  her  daughters  Flora  (helas !)  and  Selina,  the 


46  DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 

Seymours,  the  Pagets,  the  Latour-Maubourgs,  the  Hamiltons, 
the  Des  Voeuxs,  Seton,  the  Taylors,  and  some  Belgian  notabil- 
ites.  Pass  there  an  hour  and  a  half  or  so  very  blissfully,  and 
return. 

Begin  a  letter  to-day  to  Mr.  King. 

I  ought  to  mention  that,  as  I  enter  the  salon  at  the  Prince's  in 
the  evening,  Seton  beckons  me  to  sit  down  by  him,  which,  after 
making  my  salutation  to  the  Prince  and  the  ladies  present,  I  do. 
He  says  he  wants  to  console  me  about  the  Trollopes,  with  whom 
he  has  dined  at  Sir  Robert's,  and  whom  they  vote  the  vulgarest 
canaille  that  can  be.  Afterwards  hear  of  her  from  Mrs.  Taylor, 
who  dined  there.  They  say  they  were  less  amused  with  the 
old  lioness  than  with  one  of  her  whelps,  (or  cubs,)  Mr.  Henry 
or  Anastasius  Trollope,  who  spoke  his  mind  very  freely,  and 
told  how  he  had  killed  an  Indian  for  looking  at  him,  etc.  I  tell 
them  I  should  suppose,  from  her  book,  that  Mrs.  Trollope  was 
not  a  proper  person  to  be  admitted  into  their  society.  They 
seem  to  think  so  now,  yet  it  is  provoking  to  see  the  sort  of  sen- 
sation she  produces  here.  The  Prince  is  out  of  the  notion  of 
making  her  acquaintance :  he  says  because  she  stays  so  short  a 
time,  but  I  doubt  the  Seymours  have  had  something  to  do  with 
it,  for  they  have  shown  more  sense  than  curiosity  in  the  matter, 
which  is  more  sense  than  others  have. 

23c?  June — Sunday.  Write  a  letter  to  Mr.  King.  At  2  Seton 
calls.  Tells  me  the  Trollope  is  decidedly  to  dine  with  the 
Prince  on  Wednesday,  and  that  I  ought  to  go  to  enjoy  the  sport. 
Makes  some  further  observations  on  their  vulgarity.  Talk  about 
the  Mr.  Bankes  lately  arrested  for  an  unnatural  crime  in  Eng- 
land. Says  he  knows  Mr.  T*******  that  called  on  me,  and  gives 
him  negative  information  from  time  to  time.  Seems  to  think 
him  rather  a  decent  man  for  his  profession.  Go  out  and  take  a 
walk  in  the  park  at  5.  At  6,  my  two  young  countrymen  come 
in  to  dine.  Like  them  better  on  acquaintance,  especially  Mr. 
Rochester,  who  doesn't  talk  so  loudly  as  the  other,  and  has  not 
the  same  strong  nasal  twang.  Tell  me  they  have  had  their 
passports  arranged  so  as  to  go  to  Holland  by  West  Wesel.  At 
9  they  go  away.  I  take  a  walk  afterwards  and  sleep.  Nota. 
Execrable  dinner. 

2£th  June.  Sir  Robert  calls  and  gives  me  Mr.  Nothomb's 
book,  with  the  Prince's  commentary.  Mentions  that  the  Trol- 
lopes dined  with  him.  Says  in  all  his  life  he  never  saw  any 
thing  so  vulgar  as  the  boy,  whose  voice  drowned  all  other  sounds 
at  table.  Mentions  his  extraordinary  story  about  killing  an  In- 
dian for  looking  at  him.  Says  they  are  to  dine  with  the  Prince 
on  Wednesday,  and  he  is  to  be  the  negotiator.    As  neither 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS.  47 

lioness  nor  cub  speak  a  word  of  French,  doesn't  know  what 
they  will  do.  Grumbles  that  the  ministry  are  afraid  to  dismiss 
a  sufficient  number  of  their  troops.  After  he  is  gone,  I  go  out 
and  visit  the  Charnbre.  Hear  some  prosing  and  retire.  Return- 
ing home,  I  read  the  Prince's  commentary  on  Nothomb.  His 
resume  of  the  revolution  and  its  heroes  is  very  characteristic, 
and  embodies  so  exactly  my  own  views  of  them,  that  I  shall 
copy  it,  and,  with  his  permission,  send  it  to  Petigru. 

Dine  alone ;  so  long  since  I  have  done  so,  it  seems  strange  to 
me.  Call,  after  dinner,  en  caleche,  for  Lady  Wm.  Paget, — not 
at  home.  Take  a  drive  to  Feret.  Evening  delightful.  Great 
fete  and  dancing  in  the  village, — the  Kermess.  Return  and 
spend  the  evening  at  home  with  a  friend,  who,  it  is  decided,  is 
to  go  soon  to  Paris  pour  fair  e  ses  couches. 

25th  June.  Morning  as  usual.  Make  up  a  parcel  for  Ameri- 
ca, by  the  English  courier.  Letter  to  Col.  Somebody,  head  of 
the  ordnance  department  at  Washington,  from  the  Mr.  T******* ; 
my  letter  to  Mr.  King,  and  another  in  answer  to  one  received 
this  day  from  Charles  Petigru,  informing  me  there  is  no  hope  of 
his  coming  to  Brussels ;  a  duplicate  of  Mr.  K's.  letter  at  the 
same  time  to  me. 

At  2  go  to  the  Chamber.  Find  the  seance  levee  and  the  ques- 
tion on  the  address  carried  in  favor  of  ministers.  Call,  in  pass- 
ing, at  the  ministere  des  affaires  etrangeres,  on  the  subject  of 
a  second  box  of  wine  on  which  I  am  charged  duties  on  the 
frontier.  Tell  him  I  don't  care  so  much  about  the  present  in- 
stance, but  that  I  want  to  know  what  I  have  to  depend  upon  in 
future.  Tells  me  "the  thing  ought  not  to  be,  and  that  he  will 
see  to  it."  Thence  to  the  Port  de  la  ville.  Tell  the  directeur 
what  has  passed  between  the  minister  and  myself;  am  assailed 
by  the  voituriers,  who  say  they  have  advanced  the  droits  and 
are  not  to  suffer.  Tell  them  they  can  make  themselves  quite 
easy  as  to  that,  but  they  will  not.  I  make  my  escape  to  my 
carriage  as  soon  as  possible.  Return  the  call  of  Mr.  Firmin  Ro- 
gier,  secretary  of  the  Belgian  legation  at  Paris.  Get  down  at 
the  Park.  See  Mr.  White,  who  has  seen  Mrs.  Trollope ;  says 
her  conversation  betrays  want  of  education  and  usage  du  monde, 
but  finds  her  pleasant,  etc.  Miss  Graham  says  the  MS.  was 
submitted  to  Basil  Hall, — mark  that !  See  Lady  Wm.  Paget, 
who  comes  up  to  me  and  expresses  her  regrets  that  she  was  not 
in  when  I  called  yesterday  to  give  her  an  airing  ;  begs  I  will 
advertise  her  in  the  morning,  whenever  I  have  such  intentions. 
Hear  Mrs.  Northey  has  been  excessively  ill  of  the  grippe  ;  leave 
my  card  and  condolence.  At  dinner,  in  a  very  ill  humor  at  the 
whole  economy  of  my  house.     Excess  immeasurable  when  I 


48  DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 

am  alone, — stinted  and  bad  fare  when  I  have  company  ;  and 
that,  when  the  most  costly  things  are  in  the  garde-manger,  they 
are  reserved  for  the  gouter  of  my  servants  and  their  friends. 
Confound  the  whole  race, — they  torment  me  to  death.  Call  for 
my  butcher's  book,  which  I  have  not  seen  for  three  weeks,  dur- 
ing which  time  I  have  dined  out  at  least  twelve  days  ;  find  what 
has  been  supplied  this  month  already  amounts  to  185  or  190  lbs. 
of  meat !  and  that  for  four  mouths  in  twenty-five  days,  and 
some  bouillon  the  night  of  my  party.     Can't  stand  this. 

Take  a  short  drive  in  the  Allee  Verte.  See  nobody  !  Find 
that  my  cook  is  the  mistress  of  a  Belgian  officer,  to  whom  she 
must  allow  rations  out  of  my  pantry,  for  the  other  servants  say 
she  gives  them  what  is  necessary,  and  that's  all. 

26th  June.  Nothing  particular,  this  morning.  I  am  just  going 
out  at  2,  when  the  two  sons  of  General  d'Hoogvorst  come  in : 
very  amiable  lads.  Go  out  to  walk ;  return  at  3.  Read  the 
new  work  of  Martens  ( Guide  Diplomatique)  and  Vattel.  At 
half- past  4  take  a  bath.  Thunder  and  rain.  While  at  dinner 
postman  brings  me  what  I  took  to  be  some  important  letter, — 
pay  3  florins,  open  it,  and  find  it  an  old  New- York  newspaper  ! 
of  the  20th  last  month.  Glad  to  learn  from  it  that  the  country 
is  full  of  indignation  against  the  ruffian  who  assaulted  the  Pre- 
sident ;  the  information  dearly  purchased. 

After  dinner  drive  out ;  take  up  Mr.  Seymour  ;  rain  comes  on 
as  we  enter  the  Allee  Verte ;  return ;  get  down  with  him  and 
spend  an  hour  at  his  house.  Emma  beautiful  this  evening. 
Dined,  with  her  father,  at  the  Prince's  to-day.  The  Trollopes 
were  there  :  dinner  en  petit  comite.  The  boy  Trollope  expresses 
surprise  that  people  don't  eat  cats,  snakes,  etc.,  here,  as  they  do 
in  America. 

I  copied  one  of  the  Prince's  notes  on  Nothomb  to-day,  which 
I  found  an  admirable  resume  of  the  manner  in  which  the  revo- 
lution was  brought  about. 

Hear  of  a  duel  between  M.  Rogier,  Minister  of  the  Interior, 
and  the  grumbling,  bellowing,  perriwig-pated  patriot  Gendebien 
They  were  originally  two  bakers  of  the  same  farina,  but  Ro- 
gier has  risen  and  is  sweet  and  complacent, — the  other  having 
remained,  from  some  accident  in  the  baking,  a  mere  kneaded 
clod  (hopper),  is  turned  virulently  sour.  Their  fratricidal  com- 
bat was  not  fatal.  They  fought  with  pistols  at  forty  paces. 
Abel  pulled  first,  but  missed  ;  Cain  took  aim,  without  advancing 
ten  paces,  as  he  might,  and  shot  his  favored  brother  in  the  cheek 
with  a  spent  ball,  which,  having  penetrated  one  cheek,  was  ar- 
rested in  its  flight  by  a  tooth  in  the  other,  and  fell  without  fur- 
ther harm  into  the  mouth;  which,  I  should  judge  from  the 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS.  49 

above  recital,  was  open  to  receive  it  at  first.  The  minister  is 
doing  well,  and  is  expected  to  recover  the  use  of  his  tongue,  for 
all  political  purposes,  in  a  week. 

27th  June.  Receive  a  tremendous  bundle  of  newspapers  from 
Havre.  In  consequence,  don't  go  out  at  all  before  dinner.  News 
upon  the  whole  decidedly  good.  Randolph  certainly  dead,  and 
the  people  filled  with  honest  indignation  against  his  nose-pulling 
namesake,  who  is  absconded,  and  is  said  to  have  sailed  for  Eu- 
rope. Queer e — Won't  he  too  be  a  lion,  like  the  Trollopes.  and 
wouldn't  he  be  the  very  thing  to  complete  the  quartette  ?  Note. 
The  Frenchman  who  travels  with  her,  besides  other  occupations 
not  publicly  declared,  serves  her  in  the  capacity  of  sketcher  and 
caricaturist. 

Dine  at  home.  The  king  returned  to  Lacken  from  Antwerp 
(where,  Mr.  Patterson  writes  me,  he  has  been  well  received,  for 
Antwerp,)  yesterday,  but  no  dinner  to-day.  After  dinner,  a  drive 
as  usual. 

At  10,  go  to  a  soiree  at  the  French  legation.  Madame  receives 
every  Thursday.  Have  a  long  talk  with  Mr.  Northey,  who 
seems  scandalized  at  the  fuss  made  about  the  Trollopes,  whom 
he  had  met  at  the  Calderwood's  and  at  Lady  Morris'.  Says  he 
thinks  they  want  a  place  in  the  book  of  travels  she  is  writing. 
Knows  all  about  her.  She  is  the  daughter  of  a  horse-dealer  in 
England,  and  has  two  sisters,  who  are  or  were  kept  mistresses. 
I  tell  him  I  think  it  scandalous  to  pay  attentions  to  such  a  vul- 
gar trollop,  which  the  first  literary  men  of  England  would  not 
certainly  receive.  All  the  English  there,  and  dancing  to  the 
piano-forte,  played  by  different  gentlemen,  on  a  floor  which  was 
quite  stick-j,  the  wax  not  having  been  sufficiently  rubbed  off. 

28th  June.  Another  case  of  wine  arrived  from  Antwerp  :  a 
dozen  old  Carolina  Madeira,  by  way  of  specimen.  Go  out  on 
foot  at  3,  to  make  some  little  purchases  :  returning  through  the 
park,  see  a  gentleman  and  three  ladies,  in  one  of  the  by-walks, 
hurrying  precipitately  forwards.  Take  up  my  glass  and  descry 
Mr.  Seymour  and  his  daughters,  who  turn  suddenly  and  come 
towards  me  in  the  walk  where  1  was.  I  ask  what  gave  them 
such  extraordinary  activity  in  a  warm  day.  Say  they  saw  a 
gentleman  whom  they  wished  to  avoid.  I  ask  if  the  blockade 
is  raised.  They  reply  no  ;  that  the  guarda-costa  is  in  sight. 
Presently  passes  Mr.  White,  and  I  find  out  the  mot  of  the  enig- 
ma. He  will  think,  perhaps,  they  did  not  fly  from  him,  but  to 
me,  according  to  an  unfounded  report. 

Dine  at  home ;  drive  ;  return  ;  fine  moonlight  walk  round 
the  park  at  half-past  10-11. 

Received  a  letter  from  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs  relative 
vol.  i. — 7 


50  DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 

to  the  different  cases  of  wine  detained  till  duties  be  paid,  and 
about  the  forms  1  must  submit  to  in  future,  to  enjoy  my  priv- 
ilege. 

29th  June.  Warm  to-day.  After  my  lesson  in  German,  the 
master  expresses  his  surprise  at  my  progress.  Write  an  answer 
to  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs,  thanking  him  for  his  trouble, 
and  promising  to  pay  the  duties  this  time  and  take  better  care 
another.  Invited  to  dine  at  Sir  R.  Adair's  on  Tuesday  ;  to  a 
soiree  on  Monday  at  Mrs.  Blackshaw's  ;  and  another  on  Tues- 
day at  Casimir  Perier's. 

Take  a  walk  at  3  ;  return  at  4.  Read  until  dinner  ;  at  dinner, 
and  after,  read  Grirnke's  letter  to  the  people  of  South-Carolina 
on  the  ordinance, — diffuse,  rambling,  not  well  composed  as  a 
whole,  yet  containing  some  strong  passages. 

After  dinner,  they  bring  in  the  case  of  old  Madeira ;  one  of 
the  bottles  broken  and  empty.  How  the  deuce  could  that  happen  1 

At  8,  go  to  a  concert,  at  Vauxhall,  given  by  the  little  fiddling 
prodigies,  the  Eichorns.  They  are  really  wonderful.  Meet  the 
Marchioness  of  Hastings,  with  three  of  her  daughters.  Very 
warm,  and  having  no  seat  I  am  exceedingly  fatigued,  but  hold 
out  for  the  sake  of  my  company.  Invited  to  go  with  them  after 
the  concert  is  over  to  drink  tea.  Go,  and  stay  until  12  ;  return 
by  moonlight,  which  is  just  beginning  to  be  effaced  by  a  dark 
thunder-cloud,  that  comes  rattling  up. 

30^  June — Sunday.  Write  to  Petigru  about  the  revolution 
here.  At  2  go  out,  and  call  on  Gen.  Desprez  (ill)  and  Prince 
Auguste.  Meet,  at  the  Prince's,  one  of  the  sons  of  the  Duke 
D'Ursel,  with  his  wife,  I  suppose,  for  I  did'nt  hear  her  name. 
Prince  asks  me  to  come  to  his  house  to-morrow  evening,  and  be 
presented  to  Lady  Charlotte  Greville,  who  stays  with  him.  I  ask 
his  leave  to  copy  his  commentary,  which  he  cheerfully  grants, 
adding  that  he  will  show  me,  if  I  wish  it,  other  works  of  his  on 
the  public  law  of  Germany,  which  he  speaks  of  having  studied. 
I  thank  him  and  take  leave.  Return  home  to  my  letter.  Soon 
after,  Count  F.  Robianode  Borsbeck  calls.  While  he  is  there 
Sir  Robert  Adair  comes  in.  The  latter  tells  me  the  Austrian 
minister  to  this  Court  is  probably  on  his  way  hither  now.  As 
he  is  going,  mentions  that,  there  being  a  diplomatic  dinner  at 
Court  on  Tuesday,  the  Queen  of  France  being  expected  here, 
he  has  postponed  his  until  Friday.  Take  a  bath.  At  half-past 
7  go  out  to  take  a  drive  in  the  prairie.  At  9  call  at  Mr.  Sey- 
mour's, where  I  stay  until  half-past  10.     Weather  warm. 

1st  July.  Day  nearly  thrown  away,  for  any  good  purpose. 
At  2, calls  to  take  leave ;  gets  a  viaticum  ;  says  I  shall 


DIARY  OP  BRUSSELS.  51 

hear — de  ses  nouvelles.  I  am  half  sorry;  alas  !  for  human  feel- 
ings,— what  an  odd  jumble  they  are.  Sure  the  journey  will  not 
take  place ;  so  before.  After  gone,  half-past  4,  continue  my 
letters.  Dine  ;  after  dinner  write  again.  At  8,  go  out  en  caleche. 
Think  I  see  the  departed  in  grande  tenue  on  the  Boulevard. 
Return  and  look  through  my  glass  ;  find  I  was  mistaken. 

At  half-past  9,  go  to  a  soiree  at  the  Prince's  ;  presents  me  to 
Lady  Charlotte  Greville,  with  whom  I  have  a  long  talk.  After- 
wards I  speak  to  the  Countess  de  Latour  Maubourg,  then  to 
Lady  Hastings  and  Lady  Selina  H.,  where  I  stick  ;  the  party 
being  almost  exclusively  English,  and,  therefore,  stiff,  stately 
and  solemn.  Nobody  but  Sir  Robert  Adair  and  myself  change 
places  for  a  long  time,  the  rest  being  planted  round  the  room 
immovable.     Little  Eichorns  astonish  us  again. 

Prom  the  Prince's,  go  to  another  English  party  at  Mrs.  Black- 
shaw's.  The  Seymours,  Lady  Wm.  Paget,  Count  and  Countess 
Latour  Maubourg,  Perier,  Hamilton  and  myself,  went  from  the 
Prince's.  Found  a  small  company,  wondering  what  was  be- 
come of  us  ;  very  dry  and  stupid.  At  midnight  return,  and  go 
to  bed  reflecting. 

Find  out  to-day  that  I  have  been  horribly  robbed  of  some  of 
my  best  wine,  and  begin  to  imagine  whence  all  the  money  which 
that  scoundrel  Ferrari  sported,  on  his  return  from  the  country, 
came  from ;  the  villain — I  hope  he  will  get  his  deserts, — a  dozen 
Lafitte  I  meant  for  Petigru. 

Del  Chambre  tells  me  he  can't  let  me  have  my  carriage  on 
the  same  terms  another  month  ;  says  Latour  Maubourg  pays  80 
francs  more,  and,  in  truth,  as  I  find  on  talking  with  him  in  the 
evening,  he  really  does. 

2d  July.  Am  engaged  all  day  writing  to  the  government, 
making  up  my  accounts,  etc.  At  half-past  4,  sally  out  on  foot 
to  take  a  little  exercise.  As  I  go  into  the  park,  a  severe  shower 
of  rain  and  hail  comes  up,  which,  by  the  help  of  an  umbrella 
and  a  tree,  I  contrive  to  weather.  Returning,  I  make  a  toilette 
and  go  to  Court  to  dinner.  See  there  an  English  party ;  Lady 
Charlotte  Greville,  Mrs.  Clavering,  Mrs.  Taylor,  and  the  Sey- 
mours. Lady  C.  walks  with  the  English  minister,  and  is  seated 
on  the  left  of  the  king.  Mrs.  Clavering  walks  with  me.  We 
have  a  long  and  earnest  conversation  upon  the  spirit  of  the 
times,  etc.  I  find  her  eminently  pious,  and  am  more  charmed 
than  ever  with  her  manners  and  conversation.  Tell  her,  among 
other  things,  that  my  best  hopes  for  my  country  are  founded  on. 
the  sincere  respect  for  religion  which  possesses,  almost  univer- 
sally, the  whole  American  people.  She  seemed  surprised, — 
asked  me  if  I  spoke  advisedly,  and,  on  my  assuring  her  I  did, 
said  she  would  treasure  up  the  observation. 


52  DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 

After  dinner,  change  my  dress  and  go  to  Casimir  Perier's  ; 
dancing  to  a  piano-forte,  flageolet  and  violin.  Good  many  new 
English  faces  there.  Two  very  young  lords,  whose  names  I 
forget,  tall  and  handsome,  among  them.     Return  at  midnight. 

Note.     My  traveller  not  gone,  says  Louis. 

3d  July.  Queen  of  France,  and  the  Princesses  Marie  and 
Clementine  expected  to-day.  Being  very  much  overcome  hy 
incessant  application  and  want  of  exercise  yesterday,  walk  out 
to-day.  Visit  Summerhauzen's  librairie,  afterwards  Verbeists, 
where  I  buy  an  edition  of  Bynkershoek,  Bodin,  St.  Augustin's 
Confessions,  and  a  little  volume  I  never  heard  of  before,  Ga- 
brielis  Patherbii  Turonici  professione  Fontebraldcoi  Theoti- 
mus,  sive  de  tollendis  et  expurgandis  malls  libris.  St.  Augus- 
tin's Confessions  I  have  been  long  curious  to  see,  as  also  the  Civ 
itas  Dei,  but  no  octavo  edition  of  the  latter  was  to  be  found  in 
the  curious  and  immense  collection  of  that  singular  bibliopole. 
I  ask  him  if  he  has  not  lately  been  visited  by  des  Anglaises. 
He  answers  yes,  des  grandes  dames,  dont  les  manieres  tenaient 
de  la  royaute.  I  recognized  the  Hastings',  and  told  him  his 
discernment  appeared  in  that  observation,  for  they  had  for  a  long 
time  held  a  Court.  Tells  me  he  never  asks  who  his  visiters  are, 
and  accounts  for  his  reserve  by  a  story  of  some  Englishman, 
who,  having  once  bought  of  him  some  6  or  7000  francs'  worth 
of  books,  for  which  he  paid  the  ready  money,  Verbeist  begged 
to  be  informed  where  so  good  a  customer  might  be  found,  in 
case  he  got  any  thing  of  the  same  kind,  with  the  objects  of  the 
present  purchase.  Upon  this  the  unknown  amateur,  looking  at 
him  over  his  shoulder,  told  him,  for  all  his  answer,  that  he  was 
very  curious.     How  very  English  ! 

Sir  George  Hamilton  sends  me  some  trash  in  the  London 
Court  Journal,  in  which  the  little  English  circle  in  Brussels  is 
sltown  up.  Sir  George  is  Narcissus,  (well-named) ;  Seton, 
Cor-nerus  (quasi  "core-nero" — ditto) ;  Lady  de  R.,  Tondirina, 
(ditto) ;  the  others  I  don't  recognise.  These  attacks  on  ladies, 
and  trespasses  on  the  sanctity  of  private  life,  appear  to  me  quite 
shocking.  But  whoever  takes  such  a  thing  as  the  Court  Journal 
deserves  a  place  in  it. 

In  passing  through  the  Grand  Place  observe  that  the  streets 
are  pevoisees,  through  which  the  Queen  of  France  is  expected 
to  pass,  and  some,  though  not  a  great  many  people,  gathered  in 
them  to  see  the  cortege. 

Experience,  to-day,  a  depression  of  spirits,  produced  by  a 
cause  from  which  I  could  not  have  anticipated  such  an  effect. 
Lord,  what  is  man  !  I  was  reminded  of  St.  Augustine  by  these 
feelings. 

Receive  a  letter  from  Dr.  Bronson  informing  me  of  his  mar- 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS.  53 

riage  and  his  perfect  happiness.  It  is  a  proof,  certainly,  of  some 
sort  of  ecstacy,  that  he  has  forgotten  to  seal  a  letter  which  had 
to  travel  1000  leagues  by  sea,  and  100  by  land.  The  gloom  I 
was  in  before  is  very  much  deepened  by  this  picture  of  the  only 
object  I  have  earnestly  and  constantly  aspired  to  and  sighed  for, 
but  which  seems  to  be  only  for  others, — domestic  happiness, 
"thou  only  paradise  of  man  that  has  survived  the  fall."  Should 
my  life  ever  be  written,  it  will  be  deplored  that  my  aversion  to 
marriage  betrayed  me  into  many  peccadillos.  Alas  !  Solomon 
himself  never  felt  more  bitterly  than  I  do,  and  always  have,  the 
vanity  and  vexation  of  those  wretched  substitutes  for  the  interest 
which  man  is  destined  to  feel  in  woman  and  her  virtuous  love, 
on  pain  of  suffering  the  most  desolate  ennui,  and  every  sort  of 
chagrin.  Verily,  Byron — a  second  Solomon — never  said  a  better 
thing,  in  prose  or  verse, — "Pleasure  is  the  severest  of  moralists." 

Dine  alone  ;  eat  little — think  much.  After  dinner  a  drive  in 
a  new  direction  ;  return  at  9,  and  finding  there  an  unwonted 
solitude,  go  out,  for  the  first  time,  to  the  petit  theatre  of  the 
park.  Amused  for  an  hour  by  a  vaudeville.  Do  not  see  a  trav- 
eller, who,  I  am  told,  is  still  at  Brussels  ;  hope  I  may  no  more 
see . 

On  my  return,  see  an  invitation  to  dine  with  the  Prince  to- 
morrow. Valet-de-chambre  of  the  Prince  excuses  himself  for 
not  bringing  it  in  the  morning'.     To  bed  and  sleep  soundly. 

Mr.  Nothomb  sends  me  his  book,  by  way  of  hommage,  I  sup- 
pose, for  a  compliment  I  paid  him  at  Court,  the  other  day,  on  his 
late  speech  in  the  Chamber. 

Ath  July — Thursday.  From  6  in  the  morning  until  4  in  the 
afternoon,  when  I  dress  for  dinner,  I  am  incessantly  at  work. 
What  a  contrast  between  my  calm  and  even  apathy,  and  the 
furious  political  excitement  felt,  or,  at  least,  expressed  now  in 
Carolina,  where,  I  suppose,  I  shall  be  honored  with  some  com- 
plimentary notice  by  my  dearly  beloved  nullifying  friends. 

My  country  !  my  country  !  Jerusalem,  Jerusalem,  thou  that 
slayest  the  prophets !  God  of  our  fathers,  have  mercy  upon 
thee! 

I  continue  deeply  depressed,  and  am  not  a  little  home-sick  to- 
day. At  half-past  4  go  to  the  Prince's.  The  Lady  Hastings' 
and  Mr.  Fitzgerald  keep  us  waiting  for  dinner  until  a  quarter 
past  6, — they  having  understood  that  to  be  the  hour.  The 
Prince  very  impatient.  Lady  Charlotte  Greville  and  her  son, 
(the  Prince's  guests,)  Hamilton,  Seton,  Casimir  Perier,   M.  de 

,  (I  never  can  remember  the  name  of  this  old  Ugitimiste), 

and  myself,  make  up  the  party.  I  walk  to  dinner  with  Lady 
Flora ;  but,  as  I  am  going  to  sit  down,  am  called  by  the  Prince 
to  sit  on  the  right  of  the  Marchioness,  who  is  on  his  right. 


54  DIARY  OP  BRUSSELS. 

Lady  Selina  on  my  right.  At  dinner  eat  little  and  drink  less, 
but  talk  a  great  deal  with  my  charming  neighbours.  After  din- 
ner, Lady  Flora  rallies  me  for  a  deserter.  I  have  a  long  con- 
versation with  Lady  Charlotte,  (she  is  sister  to  the  Duke  of 
Portland,)  whose  manners  and  esprit  I  admire  more  than  ever  ; 
nothing  can  be  more  refined  in  its  simplicity, — upon  that  never- 
failing  topic,  the  political  situation  of  England.  Feels  the  same 
anxiety  as  all  the  rest.  Says  London  never  was  so  full  as  during 
the  last  season,  yet  agrees  there  never  were  so  many  houses  to 
let  in  the  West  End.  Public  houses  all  overflowing,  however, 
and  the  capital  made  a  sort  of  watering-place. 

The  Prince  has  just  had  a  pretty  picture,  of  the  Flemish 
school,  copied  by  his  favorite  (and  every  body's)  Emma  Sey- 
mour. It  is  framed ;  he  has  another  copy  not  framed, — both 
are  produced  and  submitted  to  the  judgment  of  Mr.  Fitzgerald, 
who  sets  up  for  connoisseurship  et  se  rnele,  as  the  Prince  ex- 
pressed it,  oVacheter  des  tableaux.  He  looks  at  the  framed  copy, 
which  he  takes  to  be  the  original,  and  breaks  out  into  all  befit- 
ting raptures  about  its  many  perfections,  scarcely  deigning  to 
cast  a  glance  over  the  supposed  essay  of  poor  little  Emma.  After 
he  had  vented  his  ecstacy,  and  displayed  his  discrimination  in 
even  the  minutest  matters,  they  tell  him  his  mistake.  He  looks 
a  little  black,  but  does  the  best  to  keep  his  ground,  and,  as  it  is 
now  a  point  of  amour  propre  with  him,  must  be  henceforth  a 
champion  en  titre  of  our  little  friend's  charming  talent,  which 
any  one,  without  being  a  connoisseur  of  pictures  or  those  who 
make  them,  may  see  in  her  eyes. 

At  7  take  leave,  and  drive  in  the  Allee  Verte  till  three-quarters 
past  8.  Then  return  home,  and,  to  fly  the  solitude,  go  to  the 
Theatre  Royal,  for  the  first  time  in  exactly  six  months,  since  I 
gave  up  my  box  because  they  made  me  pay  for  the  tickets  I 
presented  to  my  friends.  The  Muette,  which  I  find  charming. 
Thin  house,  though  the  best,  Mr.  Clavering  tells  me,  that  he  has 
seen.  He  has  not  been  here  on  Sundays.  No?ie  of  the  English, 
except  Lady  Wm.  Paget  and  her  mother,  and  Miss  Morris  (but 
not  her  mother),  go  on  Sundays.     Sir  Robert  in  his  box. 

At  half-past  10,  to  a  soiree  of  Madame  de  Latour  Maubourg. 
Dancing  to  a  piano  ;  not  many  people.  Talk  with  Hamilton, 
who  went  in  my  carriage,  about  a  certain  adventure. 

5th  July.  I  woke  (an  unusual  thing  with  me)  at  3  this  morn- 
ing, and  not  being  able  to  sleep  rose,  according  to  Franklin's 
advice,  and  exposed  myself  to  the  cool  (too  cool)  morning  air, 
by  opening  a  window  ;  returned  to  bed  and  slept  until  the  music 
of  the  gUides,  passing  on  the  Boulevard  at  seven,  waked  me 
again.  Rise  depressed  and  discontented, — read  the  three  books 
of  the  Odyssey  in  Wolf's  edition,  etc.     On  coming  down  to  my 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS.  55 

office  at  11,  see  an  invitation  to  dine  at  Court  to-morrow  :  send 
an  excuse  immediately  to  Mr.  Butler,  to  whom  I  had  been  en- 
gaged. Go  out,  after  writing  this  and  translating  a  part  of  the 
Expose  des  Motifs  of  the  conduct  of  the  French  government 
in  relation  to  American  independence,  (a  very  long  and  remark- 
able document,)  and  walk  into  town  to  my  banker's,  and  thence 
to  Summerhauzen's,  where  I  buy  Pellico — le  mie  prigioni, — a 
German  translation  of  the  Romancer o  of  the  Cid,  and  a  history, 
in  German,  of  the  Knights  Templars.  Return  at  3.  Not  able 
to  do  any  thing  :  begin  a  letter  to  Bronson,  but  my  hysterical 
feeling  will  not  down, — so  I  go  out  again  to  walk  it  off.  Find 
out  where  an  acquaintance  of  mine  lives  ;  call,  but  not  at  home. 
Return  by  way  of  the  city  and  the  park ;  find  it  very  warm. 
Expect  to  find  a  bath  ready  when  I  come  in ;  do,  but  not  warm 
enough.  As  I  am  getting  in  my  servant  brings  me  a  note  from 
Hamilton,  covering  a  remarkable  one  to  him.  Make  a  toilette 
and  dine  at  Sir  Robert  Adair's  at  6.  Present,  besides  Sir  R.  and 
Sir  G.,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Clavering,  Marchioness  of  Hastings,  with 
Ladies  Flora  and  Adelaide,  Mrs.  Walpole  (a  new  arrival),  Seton 
and  myself.  After  dinner,  take  Seton  to  Mr.  Taylor's,  where  we 
see  some  relics  of  a  dinner  party  and  many  preparations  for  a 
soiree.  Walk  in  the  garden  awhile,  then  to  whist.  I  play  two 
rubbers  and  excuse  myself.  Talk  to  Lady  Flora  all  the  time. 
The  Mistress  Walpole  is  there,  and  comes  up  near  me  ;  I  looked 
at  her  over  my  shoulder,  and  not  recognizing  her,  (I  did  not,  in 
fact,  till  it  was  too  late,)  she  seems  not  a  little  offended ;  and, 
being  asked  about  a  son  or  a  brother,  said  to  the  inquirer,  loud 
enough  for  me  to  hear  her,  "he  is  gone  to  America, — rather  a 
strange  place  to  go  to."  I  move  off  a  few  steps  silently,  without 
seeming  to  observe  this  sally  of  impertinence  or  spite.  Am 
desperately  sleepy  in  consequence  of  the  fatigues  of  the  day  and 
the  insomnie  of  the  night  before.  Retire  at  half-past  11  and  get 
to  sleep  by  12,  but,  at  3,  (as  yesterday,)  wake  again  ;  and  find 
Franklin's  remedy  unavailing  this  time.     Lie  awake  till  5,  when 

6th  July.  I  rise  and  go  down  to  my  bureau  for  my  German 
grammar.  Find  my  coachman  and  jille  de  quartier  both  at  work. 
Tell  the  latter  she  is  early ;  answers,  unot  enough  so."  After 
my  barber  has  done  his  part,  (half-past  8,)  I  go  out  and  take  a 

long  walk  on  the  Boulevards.     See ;  voyage  broken  up. 

Return  at  a  quarter  past  10  and  take  my  tea  and  toast. 

Invitation  from  Count  and  Countess  de  Merode,  Westerton,  to 
a  soiree  there  this  evening.  Send  to  get  a  box  of  four  seats  at 
the  theatre,  against  the  evening  that  their  majesties  shall  "be 
pleased  to  honor  it  with  their  august  presence."  None  to  be 
had,  but  one  of  eight, — too  many  for  a  "solitaire"  comme  moi. 
Take  a  German  lesson  and  a  bath.     Read  the  preface  to  M.  de 


56  DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 

Maistre's  Soirees  de  St.  Petersbourg.  Dine  at  Court.  Queen 
of  France  walks  with  the  King,  then  the  Queen  between  her 
two  sisters,  Sir  R.  Adair  with  Mad.  de  Latour  Maubourg,  M.  de 
L.  M.  with  the  Marchioness  of  Hastings,  I  with  Lady  Charlotte 
Greville,  Hamilton  leads  in  Lady  Flora  Hastings,  and  seats  her 
next  to  me  ;  on  turning  round  and  seeing  her,  I  exclaim  at  my 
good  fortune.  Hamilton  says,  I  brought  Lady  Flora  here  as  a 
favor  to  you.  As  much  pleased  as  ever  with  Lady  Charlotte  G. 
After  dinner,  speaking  of  her  very  agreeable  manners,  stamped 
(withal)  with  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  world,  to  Gen.  Gob- 
let, he  says,  "on  dit",  "that  she  has,  in  her  day,  (she  is  now 
turned  of  sixty,  but  doesn't  look  more  than  fifty,)  made  many 
men  happy  before,  and  happier  than  you."  I  reply,  that  ex- 
plains it  all,  and  gives  me  a  high  conceit  of  my  own  discrimina- 
tion ;  for  I  was  decidedly  impressed  with  the  idea,  that  she  had 
learned  to  read  men  backwards  and  forwards,  from  my  first 
conversation  with  her.  Talking  of  her  the  other  day  with  Mrs. 
Clavering,  I  remarked  that  she  seemed  to  know  the  world  tho- 
roughly. No  wonder,  said  she,  for  she  has  lived  always  in  the 
best  society.  That  is  not  what  I  mean,  (I  reply) ;  for  a  lady, 
and  especially  an  English  lady,  may  pass  her  whole  life  in  the 
best  society,  without  knowing  the  world  in  the  sense  I  allude  to. 
After  dinner  to  Mr.  Butler's,  where  I  find  the  Frekes  and  a 
few  other  ladies  all  alone  in  the  drawing-room.  Begin  to  declaim 
with  them  against  the  barbarous  usages  of  England,  which  per- 
mit gentlemen  to  sit  so  long  over  their  wine.  Witness  the 
present  instance  ;  I  had  gone  through  a  Court  dinner,  with  all 
its  pomp  and  circumstance, — been  home  and  changed  my  whole 
dress,  and  presented  myself  at  9  o'clock  at  Mr.  B's. — while  these 
sturdy  bottlemen  were  still  at  their  cups.  Servant  comes,  in  the 
midst  of  my  harangue,  and  tells  me  his  master  invites  me  to 
join  his  party.  I  instantly  rat  it,  but  tell  the  ladies  my  only 
object  is  to  bring  them  in.  Find  some  seven  or  eight  gentlemen 
wrangling  about  the  duty  of  an  ambassador  (who,  they  say,  is 
paid  for  that)  to  present  every  young  Englishman,  especially  a 
lord,  that  wishes  to  see  the  king,  and  that  though  there  be  no 
regular  levee.  (Sir  Robert  had  not  presented  the  two  young 
Irish  lords  who  passed  through.)  After  a  few  glasses  of  very 
good  wine, — especially  the  only  good  Madeira  I  have  tasted  in 
Europe, — we  retire,  and  presently  make  up  a  party  at  whist, — a 
franc  a  point.  I  win  two  rubbers,  and  take  leave,  at  a  quarter 
past  10,  to  go  to  the  Merodes.  Find  all  the  company  gone  ex- 
cept Lady  Hastings,  Sir  R.  Adair  (who  is  just  come  in),  and  the 
Seymours  and  a  few  French  gentlemen.  Soon  take  leave  a  la 
Frangaise  and  return  home,  where  my  solitude  is  solitude  no 
more,  but  sleep  is  as  coy  as  ever.  The  almost  total  loss  of  it 
for  three  nights  is  terrible,  and  deranges  my  whole  system. 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS.  57 

7  th  July — Sunday.  Rise  very  late, — horribly  exhausted  and 
nervous,  but  not  so  desolate  as  before,  because  there  is  some- 
thing to  awaken  an  interest  of  a  certain  kind.  Ennui  produces 
more  offences  of  every  kind  against  good  manners  than  self-love, 
says  La  Rochefoucault,  and  c'est  Men  vrai.  It  is  not  good  for 
man  to  be  alone, — that  is,  unless  he  be  at  hard  labour, — for 
otherwise  a  certain  great  personage  is  sure  to  find  some  mischief 
for  him  to  do.     See  Madame  du  Deffand,  vol.  2,  p.  — . 

The  day  is  very  warm.  I  order  a  bath  at  1,  then  change 
my  mind  and  put  it  off  till  4 ;  meanwhile  occupied  in  writing 
French,  a  letter  to  Bronson,  etc.  At  breakfast,  the  engraver 
brings  in  150  visiting  cards  for  me ;  hideous  things,  totally  unfit 
for  use,  like  every  thing  else  one  gets  here  than  can  be  got  any 
where  else  ;  e.  g.,  a  few  days  ago  had  a  pair  of  boots  footed  for 
the  first  time,  and,  in  putting  them  on,  found  that  my  heel  had 
accommodated  itself  with  a  hole  in  the  back  of  one  of  them, 
instead  of  its  natural  lodging. 

Go  out  en  caliche  at.  2.  Call  at  Mr.  Freke's  and  see  them. 
They  talk  of  Paris,  where  they  have  never  been,  though  have 
stayed  here  so  long  a  time.  Talk  of  America;  say  the  Ameri- 
cans they  know,  although  republicans,  are  the  proudest  people 
they  ever  saw.  I  tell  them  nature  makes  aristocracies  (I  did 
not,  as  I  might,  add,  "and  nature  alone  can  make  them")  where 
society  does  not,  and,  often,  where  it  does.  There  are,  at  first, 
two  great  classes  in  the  world, — people  of  esprit  and  fools. 
Then  comes  education,  which  draws  a  line  between  people  of 
esprit,  cultivated  and  mere  mother  wit.  Lastly,  a  little  fortune 
or  vantage-ground  is  necessary  to  the  former,  but,  this  being 
given,  they  necessarily  have  an  ascendant  which  the  world 
cannot  take  away.  Thence  to  Mr.  Butler's,  whom  I  see.  Hear 
thunder,  and  am  off,  leaving  cards  at  the  Hotel  de  Merode  as  I 
pass.  When  I  am  on  the  Boulevard,  see  a  tremendous  cloud  at 
the  East.  Am  not  long  at  home  before  a  tempest  of  thunder, 
lightning,  hail  and  rain  comes  rattling  on,  pouring  out  the  while 
torrents  of  rain.  I  take  up  De  Maistre's  Soirees,  and  find  a 
discussion  on  the  origin  of  evil,  very  apropos  of  a  storm, — 
pleased  with  it :  have  to  put  it  down  to  go  into  the  bath,  where 
I  remain  half  an  hour,  and  then,  what  with  the  flesh  brush  and 
the  toilette,  don't  get  out  into  the  drawing-room  until  half-past 
5.  Read  till  6.  Dinner  announced  ;  eat  little.  After  it,  try  to 
sleep — in  vain.     At  8  receive  a  visit ;  and,  at  half-past  9,  go  out 

en  voiture  fermee  to  drive,  as  far  as  the  porte  de  Hal ;  

with  me.     At  half-past  10,  to  bed,  and,  God  be  praised,  sleep 
soundly  for  eight  hours  together. 

8/^  July.     Return  a  card  I  received  yesterday  from  Mr.  Henry, 
late  consul  of  the  United  States  at  Gibraltar.  Write  to  Mr.  Mark. 
vol.  i. — 8 


58  DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 

Go  out  on  foot,  at  half-past  2,  and  walk  as  far  as  the  Botanic 
Garden ;  then  back  by  the  rue  royale.  At  half-past  4,  dine  at 
Prince  Auguste's.  Mad.  la  Comtesse  du  Roure,  sister-in-law  of 
Madame  de  St.  Aulaire,  and  dame  oVhonneur  of  the  Q,ueen  of 
France,  Monsieur,  Madame  and  Mademoiselle  d'Hoogvorst,  Mr. 
Taylor,  M.  de  Baillet,  Casimir  Perier,  Lady  Charlotte  Greville 
and  I.  Give  my  arm  to  Lady  Charlotte.  At  dinner  speaks,  like 
all  the  rest  of  the  English,  oi  the  downfal  of  the  aristocracy. 
Says  the  inequality  of  fortune  is  dreadful ;  an  eldest  brother 
with  £50,000  a  year,  while  £20,000  is  to  be  divided  among  all 
the  younger  children.  Mentions  a  duke's  daughter  that  always 
goes  in  a  stage-coach,  and  how  it  would  have  horrified  her  proud 
father  to  think  of  it ;  but  she  had  married  a  poor  cousin  for  love. 
Speaks  of  the  Catons  ;  says  Betsey  is  good-natured,  but  vulgar ; 
Lady  Caermarthen  a  mischief-maker  and  universally  detested ; 
Lady  Wellesley  very  pretty  and  of  good  manners,  but  too  evi- 
dently playing  a  part, — indeed,  far  more  stately  than  the  queen. 
Mentions  that,  on  some  occasion,  Lady  C,  then  Lady  Harvey, 
seeing  the  aides-de-camp  of  the  Emperor  of  Russia  waiting  on 
him  at  table,  wanted  Lord  Wellington's  to  do  the  same. 

Mr.  Taylor  mentions  that  he  has  lost  600  panes  of  glass  in 
his  conservatory,  etc.,  by  the  hail  yesterday,  and  that  a  part  of 
the  brick  wall  of  the  town  is  demolished.  After  dinner  I  return 
home,  and  see  a  letter  from  Mr.  Harris,  (charge  d'affaires  at 
Paris,)  who  doesn't  know  me,  introducing  Mr.  Henry  to  me, — 
funny  enough. 

Go  out  en  caleche, — see  the  wall  where  it  was  demolished  ;  it 
is  washed  down.  Return  and  spend  the  evening  at  home.  At 
half-past  9,  go  out  en  voiture  fermee  with  a  friend.  To  bed  and 
sleep  pretty  well,— 

9th  July — but  wake  with  a  decided  fit  of  spleen  and  ennui. 
When  I  am  come  down,  one  of  my  servants  comes  in  with  some 
complaint, — a  thing  that  always  makes  me  furious  ;  leaves  me 
with  my  bile  all  stirred  up,  and  prevents  my  studying  for  my 
German  master,  who  comes  in  at  half- past  11.  After  the  usual 
occupations,  go  out  at  2  and  call  on  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Henry, — not 
at  home.  Take  a  walk  and  return  ;  finish  Vattel.  Dine  alone. 
Read,  after  dinner,  English  newspaper  (Examiner).  At  three- 
quarters  past  S,  company  comes.  After  10,  go  out  to  a  soiree 
dansante  at  Mrs.  Heyland's.  Talk  with  Lady  Flora  Hastings 
and  Miss  Seymour  ;  decline  playing  whist.  Return  at  half-past 
11,  and  sleep,  in  a  single  nap,  through  the  whole  night.  Day 
very  unseasonably  cold,  gloomy  and  damp. 

\0th  July.  Cold,  gloomy  weather  continues.  Before  I  am 
down  stairs,  Mr.  Henry  calls.     Tell  my  servant  to  show  him 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS.  59 

up.  Talks  about  Col.  Hayne,  Harris  (charge  at  Paris),  etc.  Has 
good  manners,  but  bourgeois  ;  an  American  tourist  in  England, 
among  merchants,  etc.  Tell  him  I  shall  be  happy  to  see  the 
ladies  of  his  party.  Asks  me  to  name  my  hour,  which  I  do  ; 
and,  at  half-past  2,  I  call,  and  am  led  up  to  the  top  of  the  Belle- 
vue  hotel,  where,  in  angulo  quodam,  see  two  pretty  girls,  one 
English,  the  other,  Mr.  H's.  daughter,  still  prettier,  and  prettier 
quam  American, — outline  more  precise  and  Greek,  countenance 
belle,  etc.  Talk  half  an  hour  with  them ;  advise  them  to  go 
up  the  Rhine,  and  by  no  means  to  miss  the  country  between 
Liege  and  Namur.  Take  a  walk,  then  home  and  study  Wicque- 
fort  till  dinner ;  struck  with  his  way  of  thinking,  etc.  After 
dinner,  read  the  Examiner  till  some  one  comes  in  at  8 ;  and,  at 
half-past  9,  take  a  drive,  as  far  as  the  gate  de  Hal,  en  voiture 
fermee.  At  a  quarter  past  10,  go  to  a  soiree  at  Latour  Mau- 
bourg's,  where,  besides  the  old  set,  I  see  Lord  and  Lady  Sidney. 
They  are  young ;  she  a  Paget,  daughter  of  Lord  Anglesey, — 
pretty,  and  dances  tolerably  for  an  Anglaise,  but  too  dumpy.  I 
stay  only  until  11.  Getting  rather  tired  of  all  this,  and  sighing 
for  a  month  or  two  at  Paris. 

11th  July.  Morning  as  usual.  Weather  clearing  up.  Take 
a  walk  at  half-past  2 ;  delightful  day.  On  the  Boulevard  meet 
Col.  Nixon.  While  talking  with  him,  the  Prince  and  Lady 
Charlotte  Greville  pass  in  a  britscka.  Col.  N.  confirms  what 
General  G.  told  me  the  other  day. 

No  event.  Finish  my  letter  to  Bronson  in  the  evening.  In- 
vitation to  dine  with  the  Prince  to-morrow  ;  hope  I  shall  see 
Lady  Charlotte,  who  told  me  she  was  to  go  to-morrow,  and  to 
whom  I  expressed  the  strong  desire  I  feel  to  see  her  again.  Oh  ! 
when  she  was  40  years  younger,  or  even  30  !! 

\2th  July.  When  I  come  down  to-day,  receive  a  note  from 
Sir  R.  Adair,  inviting  me  to  meet  Lord  and  Lady  Durham  at  his 
house  to-day,  at  a  dinner  sans  f  agon.  Unfortunately  under  the 
necessity  of  declining  the  invitation.  Send  newspapers  to  Amer- 
ica,— Constitutionel  to  Petigru  ;  send  my  letter  to  Bronson  by 
the  English  courier.  Write,  also,  to  my  English  tailors,  Lane 
&  Sons.  Walk  on  the  Boulevard.  On  my  return  dress  for 
dinner,  and  go  at  half-past  4.  Nobody  there  but  Perier,  Mr. 
Seymour  and  Emma,  Lady  Charlotte  and  her  son.  Rather  an- 
noyed that  I  was  not  at  Sir  Robert's.  Sit  next  to  Lady  Charlotte. 
Talk,  among  other  things,  of  Lord  Stanhope  ;  mention  the  story 
of  the  raw  head.  She  laughs,  and  says  it  must  have  been  a 
phantom  of  his  own  creation ;  though,  dares  say,  he  believed  it. 
Says  he  is  a  little  cracked,  she  thinks.  I  smile,  and  she  asks 
me  if  I  don't  think  so  too.    I  told  her  I  thought  him  "full  bro- 


(50  DIARY  OP  BRUSSELS. 

ther  of  Lady  Esther."  The  truth  is,  I  set  him  down  for  that  in 
my  journal  at  the  time ;  though,  as  she  says,  he  is  clever.  As 
to  the  story  itself,  it  seems  it  is  not  without  foundation ;  a  head 
has  appeared  to  Lord  Grey,  but  Mr.  Greville  never  heard  that 
it  was  Brissot's.  Lady  C.  says  Lord  Durham  talks  so  coarsely 
to  women,  that  his  society  is  not  considered  as  safe  for  them, 
though  he  can  be,  when  he  pleases,  very  agreeable.  His  temper, 
too,  is  bad. 

After  dinner,  I  take  a  drive  in  the  neighborhood  of  Lacken ; 
Mr.  Seymour  with  me.  That  over,  I  had  arranged  to  call  on 
the  Hastings',  where  his  daughters  are  to  be,  but  I  do  not.  Go 
out,  however,  and  come  back  at  1 1  discontented.  I  am  rapidly 
falling  into  confirmed  ennui,  and  must  change  the  air. 

13th  July.  Receive  a  visit  from  a  person  who  writes  himself 
"Olislagers  de  Meersenhoven,"  and  claims  kin  with  M.  deVilain 
XIV.  Comes  to  ask  how  he  can  recover  a  small  debt  at  Charles- 
ton, which  is  to  be  paid  over  for  the  benefit  of  the  "missions." 
One  of  many  instances  of  the  spirit  of  proselytism  that  is 
abroad  in  this  country.  Speaks  of  "Monseigneur"  England, 
who,  he  tells  me,  is  in  Ireland  just  now.  I  have  a  good  deal  to 
say  to  him  about  his  church  in  America,  and  our  prison  discip- 
line. 

Mr.  Butler,  Sen.,  calls  to  take  leave, — going  to  Aix  la  Chapelle. 
Walk  out ;  return  at  4,  and  study  Wicquefort  until  6.  Dine  at 
half-past  7.  Before  I  am  out  of  my  dining  room,  a  friend  calls ; 
partakes  of  the  dessert — nothing  else. 

l&th  July — Sunday.  A  mass  of  Weber  or  Beethoven  at  St. 
Gudule's,  with  the  possibility  of  seeing  the  Queen  of  France 
there,  and  the  certainty  of  witnessing  the  procession  of  the  St. 
Sacrement,  (I  believe,)  tempts  me  out  at  10.  When  I  descend 
from  my  carriage,  some  person,  with  a  badge  of  office  on  him, 
leads  me  up  an  avenue,  formed  by  a  double  row  of  soldiers,  into 
the  choir,  where  I  do  what  I  never  did  before, — go  through  a 
whole  mass.  The  priest,  ministering,  at  the  elevation,  was  liter- 
ally enveloped  in  a  cloud  of  incense.     Music  delightful. 

Return  home  and  begin  a  letter  to  Hammond.  At  2,  go  out 
with  the  intention  of  calling  at  Mr.  Taylor's  and  Lady  Charlotte 
Fitzgerald's.  See  Mr.  T.  in  the  street.  He  gets  up  into  my 
carriage,  and  we  go  together  to  his  house.  Passing,  we  meet 
Lady  Wm.  Paget  in  Casimir  Perier's  caleche;  remarks  on  the 
incident,  and  Lord  William  is  said  to  he  jealous.  At  Mr.  Tay- 
lor's see  Lady  C.  Greville ;  tells  me  she  hopes  she  will  have  the 
pleasure  of  meeting  me  at  the  Prince's  to-morrow.  Tell  her  I 
shall  have  that  happiness.  Thence  to  Lady  Charlotte  Fitzger- 
ald's.    See  there  Lady  Flora  and  Lady  Sophia  Hastings.     Lady 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS.  61 

Charlotte  gives  me  "Sketches  of  Canada  by  a  Backwoodsman" 
to  read,  and  Mr.  Fitzgerald  the  last  number  of  the  Examiner.  I 
make  my  bow  to  the  ladies,  and  go  with  him  into  his  library. 
He  shows  me  a  printed  composition  of  Lady  Flora, — a  pretty 
tale, — which  proves  her  mind  to  be  as  elegant  as  her  manners. 
Leave  a  card  at  Mrs.  Heyland's.  Return  home,  and  walk  out. 
Meet  Mr.  Seymour,  who  begs  me  to  come  and  dine  with  him, 
which  I  consent  to  do.     Return  to  my  letter  to  Hammond. 

At  6,  go  to  Mr.  Seymour's.  Meet  there  a  Mr.  JSearle  (I  think) 
and  his  wife,  daughter  of  an  Admiral  Amsel?  or  some  such 
name, — pretty  eyes,  but  coarse  voice  and  loud  in  her  conversa- 
tion. I  experienced,  at  this  dinner,  the  inconvenience  of  not 
being  introduced.  Something  was  said  about  the  Dutch,  and 
what  the  Americans  felt  towards  them.  It  was  remarked  that 
the  former  were  a  good  people,  and  every  body  liked  them.  The 
Dutch  you  mean,  says  this  lady,  not  the  Americans,  surely,  for 
if  there  is  a  people  I  abhor,  it  is  they.  Mr.  Seymour  seemed 
ready  to  sink  ;  all  was  consternation.  I  affected  not  to  hear,  but 
it  wouldn't  do ;  the  blood  mounted  into  my  cheeks,  and  I  was 
silent  in  spite  of  every  effort  I  made  to  talk  as  if  nothing  had 
happened.  I  don't  know  whether  she  found  out  her  mistake. 
After  some  time,  the  ladies  left  the  table,  and  we  soon  followed. 
In  the  drawing-room,  I  entered  into  conversation  with  this  per- 
son and  Mrs.  Seymour,  and  endeavored,  while  coffee  was  hand- 
ing, to  make  the  impression  that  I  had  not  heard ;  but  after 
lights  were  brought  (about  9)  I  decamped,  in  spite  of  all  the 
friendly  remonstrances  of  my  kind  hosts  against  that  step. 

This  little  woman's  being  the  daughter  of  an  admiral  may 
account  for  somewhat  more  vivacity  of  hate,  but  I  am  satisfied 
the  hostility  she  expressed  with  so  much  naivete  is,  in  a  greater 
or  less  degree,  a  national  feeling.  The  attentions  paid  to  the 
Trollopes,  were  not  all  due  to  curiosity  and  the  desire  of  appear- 
ing in  her  future  pages. 

I  return  home,  not  excited,  but  reflecting  on  the  wickedness 
of  such  feelings,  and  especially  of  the  conduct  of  those  who  lay 
themselves  out  to  awaken  or  inflame  them. 

Mr.  Butler,  Sen.,  calls  to  take  leave,  and  urges  me  to  Aix  la 
Chapelle. 

Mem.  When  the  procession  was  formed  before  the  cathedral 
to-day,  and  the  priests  began  to  bray  out  their  psalmody,  some 
young  men  near  my  carriage  bellowed  in  response,  and  laughed 
heartily  at  the  impious  mimicry.  Although  this  is  the  most 
Catholic  of  Catholic  countries,  I  have  no  where  seen  jokes  upon 
the  clergy  so  heartily  relished. 

Voth  July.  Morning,  etc.,  as  usual.  Continue  my  letter  to 
Hammond  a  few  moments.     Go  out  on  foot  at  2.     After  my  re- 


62  DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 

turn,  read  Wicquefort  half  an  hour,  when  I  receive  an  unex- 
pected visit.  My  guest  par  tie,  I  make  a  toilette  and  go  to  the 
Prince's.  Present,  the  English  ambassador  and  his  sister  (Mrs. 
Clavering),  Seton,  Hamilton,  Mr.  Taylor  and  his  new  son-in- 
law  Mr.  Deeds,  Mr.  Seymour,  Duke  D'Ursel,  Lady  Charlotte 
Greville,  Mr.  Greville  and  I.  Sit  between  Mrs.  Clavering  and 
Hamilton.  The  former  anxious  about  the  politics  of  England. 
Since  the  ministry  have  been  beaten  on  the  local  courts  bill, 
expects  a  change.  Very  kind  and  complimentary  to  me ;  takes 
a  glass  of  Sillery,  and  asks  me  to  fledge  her,  taour  meeting  in 
England. 

After  dinner,  go  home  and  find  Washington  papers  to  the  14th 
June.  Go  out,  afterwards,  en  caleche,  towards  the  Alice  Verte. 
A  monde  infini  on  foot  (especially)  and  en  voiture.  It  is  the 
Karmesse  of  the  city  to-day. 

According  to  Lady  Charlotte's  request,  return  to  the  Prince's 
after  9,  expecting  to  play  whist.  Nobody  but  herself  and  the 
Prince.  Duke  d'Ursel  comes  in  afterwards.  No  whist,  but 
agreeable  conversation.  Prince  tells  me  a  new  book  of  Me  moires 
of  Condorcet  is  advertised.  Talk  of  De  Maistre  and  his  Soirees 
de  St.  Petersbourg.  Lady  Charlotte  calls  my  attention  to  Galig- 
nani's  Messenger  on  the  late  Parliamentary  event,  at  which  I 
can  see  she  is  chuckling,  but  still  anxious.  About  10  take  leave, 
shake  hands,  and  hope  we  shall  meet  again.  Darling  little  crea- 
ture,— and  whose  years  one  absolutely  forgets  in  her  nameless 
graces.  Walk  to  the  Porte  de  Louvain  and  back  again  ;  read 
my  American  newspapers  and  go  to  bed. 

16th  July.  German  master  admires  at  my  progress  ;  I  begin 
to  read  without  a  great  deal  of  difficulty,  and  shall  soon  under- 
take some  work  of  note, — e.  g.,  Wolf's  Prolegomena,  which  is 
sent  me  to-day  by  Mayer,  or  the  Romancero  of  the  Cid,  trans- 
lated. At  10  walk  out ;  go  to  Mayer's  and  buy  a  German  pocket 
dictionary.     Return  at  4  and  read  Wicquefort.     Dine  alone. 

To-day  Prince  Auguste  leaves  Brussels,  to  make  a  short  tour 
on  the  Rhine  with  his  little  darling,  Lady  Charlotte  Greville. 
Her  majesty's  advanced  pregnancy  prevents  their  seeing  us  at 
Court ;  so  that  I  shall,  for  a  fortnight  at  least,  be  very  seldom 
disturbed  in  my  solitude.  Tant  mieux.  Let  my  eyes  only  hold 
out,  and  I  am  independent  of  the  world. 

Drive,  after  dinner,  round  the  town.  See  preparations  for  a 
grand  illumination  at  the  Botanical  Garden.  Go  by  there  in  my 
carriage  at  9  to  half-past  10  ;  brilliant  beyond  every  thing  of  the 
kind  fever  saw. 

17th  July.  Excuse  from  M.  and  Mad.  de  Latour  Maubourg, 
for  not  being  well  enough  to  receive  this  evening.     Hair  cut ; 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS.  63 

take  a  bath  and — a  cold.  Terrible  attack  of  pain  in  the  pit  of 
the  stomach  and  bowels  at  dinner.  Take  a  cigar  and  lie  down  ; 
passes  off.     Drive  out — return  ;  drive  out  again  after  9. 

Letter  from  Count  F.  de  Merode,  announcing  his  appointment 
ad  interim  to  the  bureau  of  foreign  affairs,  during  M.  Goblet's 
absence  at  London. 

Returning  from  the  Allee  Verte,  (where  I  met,  for  the  second 
time,  the  whole  royal  family, — viz  :  the  king,  two  queens,  and 
two  princesses,  in  a  single  open  carriage,)  Mr.  Seymour  stops 
me  and  invites  me  to  his  house  this  evening,  but  tells  me  my 
"bill  of  fare."  "The  same,"  says  he,  smiling,  "you  had  on  Sun- 
day."    I  smile,  and  tell  him  I  will  come  another  time. 

18th  July.  Nothing  extraordinary.  Returning,  in  my  walk 
at  2-4,  fall  in  with  Mr.  Irving,  who  refers  me  to  the  London 
Courier  for  a  meeting  of  the  saints  in  England,  in  relation  to 
slavery  in  the  United  States.  They  find  fault,  it  seems,  with 
the  Colonization  Society,  because  the  sending  off  the  free  people 
of  colour  diminishes  the  chance  of  insurrection.  Afterwards  see 
Sir  R.  Adair,  who  tells  me  the  Tories  are  alarmed ;  that  the 
result  of  their  late  meeting  at  Apsley  House  was  a  determina- 
tion to  let  the  Irish  church  reform  bill  go  to  a  second  reading, 
and  to  introduce  amendments  in  committee,  that  this  concession 
of  theirs  is  altogether  owing  to  the  decision  of  "our"  (whig) 
party,  who  would  have  resigned  on  the  spot  and  refused  to  have 
any  thing  more  to  do  with  the  government,  etc.,  etc.  Tells  me, 
with  a  charge  of  the  profoundest  secrecy,  that  the  Dutch  propo- 
sitions submitted  through  Dedei  and  Van  Soclen  are  more  inad- 
missible than  ever ;  perhaps,  owing  to  the  apparent  instability 
of  the  Whig  administration.  The  whole  conference  had  scouted 
the  overture. 

After  dinner  a  heavy  shower  comes  up,  which  prevents  my 
driving.  Amuse  myself  with  "Sketches  of  Canada,  by  a  Back- 
woodsman", (a  Mr.  Dunlop,  says  Lady  Charlotte  Fitzgerald,  who 
lent  me  the  book) — very  lively  and  clever,  and,  I  dare  say,  just. 
Says  the  Southern  planters  are  the  only  "body  of  gentlemen"  in 
America,  and  that's  true. 

Answer  M.  de  Merode's  letter. 

IQth  July.  Undertake  to  read  the  preface  to  Wolf's  Lectures 
on  the  four  first  books  of  the  Iliad,  in  German ;  find  it  horribly 
difficult.  Go  out  on  foot  and  walk  for  an  hour,  3  to  4  ;  buy  half 
a  guillaume's  worth  of  good  cigars.  After  dinner  drive  in  the 
Allee  Verte  ;  bad  weather  coming  up,  I  return  in  haste.  At  10, 
go  to  a  pleasant  party  at  Mr.  Taylor's,  where  I  am  presented  to 
Mrs.  Deeds,  his  newly  married  daughter  ;  not  very  pretty,  but 


64  DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 

fat,  fair  and  amiable.  Some  English  new-comers  there.  I  talk 
principally  with  Lady  Flora.  Sir  John  Morris  returned  from  a 
visit  of  two  months  to  England.  At  half-past  11  return  home, 
leaving  almost  all  the  company  still  there.  Don't  take  much 
interest  now  in  these  things,  and,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  am  always 
afraid  I  may  hear  something  disagreeable  about  my  country  in 
English  society. 

20th  July.  Anniversary  of  my  departure  from  New- York. 
Windy  and  showery.  Receive  a  letter  from  McMillan  King, 
apologizing  for  his  very  culpable  remissness  heretofore ;  another 
from  Mr.  Mark.  Soon  after,  a  visit  from  Mr.  Serruys,  brother  of 
the  vice-consul  at  Ostend,  from  whom  he  hands  me  a  letter  and 
a  copy  of  the  new  instructions  to  consuls.  Walk,  dine,  etc.,  as 
usual,  but  do  not  drive  out  in  the  evening,  because  my  worthy 
footman's  daughter  is  thought  to  be  dying,  and  I  have  sent  him 
to  his  family.  Poor  fellow,  he  did  not  venture  to  tell  me  of  it 
himself ;  I  learned  it  through  a  third  person, — a  circumstance 
which  affected  me  very  much. 

Go  to  a  party  at  Lady  Charlotte  Fitzgerald's.  Talk  to  Mr. 
Seymour,  Lady  Flora  and  Lady  Sophia,  who  (though  a  victim 
of  disease)  is  a  pattern  of  amiableness  and  meek  resignation, 
and,  withal,  remarkably  sensible.  We  talk  of  patience  under 
the  ills  of  life,  etc.  She  says  she  does  not  know  what  it  is  to 
lose  a  nighfs  rest.  How  much  to  be  envied  !  Then,  said  I, 
you  have  never  known  perfect  misery,  of  which  an  insomnia  is 
at  once  the  effect  and  the  cause.  My  feelings  towards  Lady 
Flora  still  the  same,  and  she  seems  to  understand  what  they  are. 
I  love  their  sweet  English  way  of  shaking  hands, — so  much 
better  than  the  Frenchified  bovj.  My  happiness  would  be  as 
perfect  as  man's  can  be,  with  such  a  lady  for  my  bride,  without 
her  title,  and  of  my  own  country, — but  why,  ye  gods,  do  two 
and  two  make  four  ?  Confound  number  and  quantity,  they  are 
sadly  at  war  with  quality. 

2\st  July — Swiday.  Read  De  Maistre's  Soirees  de  St.  Peters- 
bourg.  Strikes  me  as  a  production  of  singular  originality  and 
power.  Go  out  to  walk  at  half-past  12,  and  find  myself  the 
better  of  it  all  day  long.  Receive  a  letter  from  my  mother,  and 
another  from  my  London  tailor.  Sir  H.  Seton  calls :  as  I  owe 
him  a  visit,  don't  know  what  brought  him.  Copy  part  of  my 
journal  for  Hammond.  Return  to  De  Maistre, — tremendous 
censure  ot  Voltaire.  Dine  alone ;  after  dinner,  read  the  Soirees 
again  until  company  comes  in.    At  half-past  9  go  out  en  voiture. 

22d  July.     Dismal  day, — rainy  and  blowing  hard.     Go  out 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS.  65 

to  walk  at  3  notwithstanding,  and  meet  Miss  Northey  on  horse- 
back, with  a  footman  only  accompanying  her.  She  tells  me  it 
is  a  very  fine  day,  which  I  repeat  and  pass  on. 

Sir  Robert  Adair  sends  me  the  card  of  Mr.  McGregor,  and 
asks  to  be  allowed  to  present  him.  Afterwards  Mr.  Morse  (the 
young  gentleman  from  New-Orleans,  who  was  here  about  a 
month  ago)  comes  in,  on  his  return  from  England  and  Holland. 
Says  the  cholera  is  very  bad  in  Rotterdam.  Says  Mr.  Living- 
ston is  to  go  first  to  Naples,  in  order  to  get  two  outfits.  So  much 
the  better  for  him,  if  he  don't  want  to  get  a  different  kind  of 
fits, — as  I  am  near  doing  for  want  of  Rhino.  While  Mr.  M.  is 
talking,  Sir  Robert  is  announced  and  shown  up  stairs.  I  follow 
and  am  introduced  to  Mr.  McGregor,  a  worthy  and  intelligent 
Scotsman,  who  has  been  a  long  while  in  America,  and  has  just 
published  a  book  about  the  British  colonies  in  the  North  and  the 
United  States,  of  which,  he  says,  the  first  edition  is  already 
bought  up  :  promises  me  a  copy.  I  talk  a  long  time  with  him 
after  Sir  Robert  takes  leave.  Among  other  things,  he  tells  me 
the  valley  of  the  Mississippi  is  capable  of  supporting  a  greater 
population  than  all  Europe.     Promise  to  call  and  see  him. 

Dine  at  Mr.  Taylor's.  Present,  besides  his  own  family,  Lord 
Edward  Somerset,  brother  of  the  Duke  of  Beaufort ;  and  two 
ugly  little  men  of  the  name  of  Talbot,  connections  of  his.  The 
Marchioness  of  Hastings,  with  Lady  Flora  and  Lady  Selina, 
Seton  and  I.  Two  young  English  ladies  had  been  invited,  who 
sing  a  merveille,  but  one  of  them  was  suddenly  attacked  with 
some  disorder,  an  evening  or  two  ago,  at  the  theatre,  and  so  I  did 
not  hear  them.  Seton,  whom  I  take  to  Mr.  T's.  in  my  carriage, 
says  they  are  '-horrid  vulgar",  but  recherchees  for  their  voice, 
poor  things.  Lady  Flora  (on  the  contrary)  tells  me  one  of  them 
is  extremely  beautiful ;  that  their  singing  is  very  superior,  a 
la  Malibran,  etc.;  that  they  were  once  all  the  fashion,  and  re- 
ceived the  greatest  attention  from  the  "smartest"  people  at  Rome, 
where  she  saw  them ;  that,  being  portionless,  they  afterwards 
got  out  of  vogue,  and  she  saw  them  again  at  Brighton,  and  was 
glad  to  find  they  did  not  seem  at  all  out  of  heart  for  the  change, 
which  made  her  conceive  a  high  respect  for  them,  and  treat 
them  always  with  attention.  Sweet  creature, — this  is  perfectly 
characteristic  of  her.  I  sit  next  to  her  at  dinner,  where  the 
conversation  turns  on  ancient  nobility.  I  make  some  inquiries 
about  the  different  races  that  compose  her  lineage.  Tells  me 
why  they  bear  the  name  of  Hastings  instead  of  Rawdon.  I  ask 
her  if  she  has  ever  seen  Mr.  Wheaton's  work  on  the  "North- 
men", which  every  descendant  of  the  Sea  Kings  ought  to  feel 
an  interest  in,  as  it  is  well  spoken  of  by  the  critics.  Says  she 
will  remember  it. 

After  dinner,  gentlemen  remain  at  table  a  little  while.  In  the 
vol.  i.— 9 


66  DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 

drawing-room,  have  a  long  talk  with  Lord  Edward  and  one  of 
his  companions, — both  tories, — and  the  little  Talbot  vulgar,  and 
very  loud ;  so  that  I  was  quite  ashamed  of  speaking  to  him  on 
such  subjects  as  government,  etc.,  which,  with  his  proclamation 
voice,  he  forced  on  the  attention  of  the  whole  suite  of  apart- 
ments. Lord  Edward  commanded  a  brigade  of  cavalry  at  Wa- 
terloo, whither  he  goes  to-morrow,  never  having  been  there 
since  "the  evening  of  the  18/A."  A  very  gentlemanlike  person, 
with  a  large  family  and  small  revenue.  He  is  here  reconnoi- 
tring for  a  good  retreat  from  the  ruinous  prodigality  of  London. 
Tells  me  Mr.  McLane  said  of  the  reform  bill  that  it  made  Eng- 
land a  republic, — he  would  not  pretend  to  affirm  that  the  change 
were  for  the  better,  or  the  contrary,  but  such  was  the  change. 
I  tell  him  I  think  Mr.  McLane  was  not  quite  right  in  that,  for 
that,  in  my  opinion,  their  government  was  now  neither  mon- 
archy nor  republic,  but  something  far  less  stable  or  efficient  than 
either. 

Seton  tells  me  Miss  Morris  once  said  to  him,  before  a  third 
person,  that  he  did  not  behave  like  a  gentleman.  That's  no 
compliment  to  yourself,  replied  S.,  for  a  man's  conduct  is  always 
regulated  by  that  of  the  lady  he  is  with.  Rather  sharp  this,  but 
nothing  can  be  too  much  so  for  that  most  odious  and  offensive 
little  parricide ,  who  is  doing  her  best  to  take  in  Perier. 

By-the-bye,  when  Seton's  note,  begging  me  to  call  for  him  as 
I  was  going  to  dinner,  came  to-day,  I  thought  of  the  extra  visit 
yesterday.     Oh  world  ! 

Return  at  half-past  11.  In  a  quandary  about  a  carriage  ;  tired 
of  Del  Chambre  and  hiring,  which  is  too  expensive,  but  don't 
know  how  to  raise  the  wind  for  a  purchase.  Wish  for  one  of 
Mr.  Livingston's  outfits. — it  is  the  devil  to  be  living,  at  a  Court, 
from  hand  to  mouth. 

23d  July.  Call  on  Mr.  McGregor,  who  introduces  me  to  his 
young  and  rather  pretty  wife.  Go  afterwards  to  Mr.  Mayer's 
librairie  :  buy  a  pamphlet,  published  at  the  Hague,  of  which  the 
drift  is  to  shew  that  the  kingdom  of  the  Netherlands  ought  to 
be  re-established.  Thence  to  Verbeist's,  to  pay  a  little  debt. 
Afterwards,  look  at  a  carriage  belonging  to  the  estate  of  feu 
Count  Somebody  ;  a  very  nice  thing  it  is,  and  scarcely  used  at 
all.  but  too  much  asked.  Get  down  to  walk  on  the  Boulevard. 
Heavy  shower  of  rain  comes  up.  Don't  go  out  to  drive  after 
dinner,  but  do  at  half-past  9.     Evening  fine,  etc.,  moon. 

2kth  July.  Awaked  this  morning,  at  6  o'clock,  by  a  discharge 
of  artillery  upon  the  Boulevard,  announcing  the  birth  of  a  prince. 
After  I  go  down  to  my  office,  hear  that  the  French  ambassador 
is  gone  to  Lacken.     Send  to  know  if  the  English  minister  has 


DIARY  OP  BRUSSELS.  67 

followed  ;  find  he  has.  Send  my  coachman  to  the  palace  here, 
to  know  whether  I  shall  be  received  if  I  go ;  answer  of  the 
Grand  Marshal  determines  me  to  go.  Set  out  about  2,  enfrac. 
In  the  salle  d'audience,  see  the  dames  oVhonneur,  with  whom  I 
exchange  felicitations.  Presently  Count  d'Arschot  tells  me  the 
king  wishes  to  see  me  in  the  garden  where  he  is.  I  go  down 
the  steps  and  see  his  majesty  at  the  bottom  of  them,  in  a  blue 
military  surtout.  Receives  me  cordially,  offering  his  hand,  which 
took  me  so  much  by  surprise,  that  I  had  not  time  to  take  off  my 
glove  until  after  I  had  taken  his  majesty's  hand,  for  which  I 
apologise, — choice  of  evils,  and  I  thought  it  best  not  to  keep  the 
king  waiting.  Thanked  me  for  my  visit,  and  for  all  the  interest 
I  had  uniformly  shown  in  their  welfare.  Returned  to  Brussels, 
call  on  Seton,  who  lives  in  the  third  story  of  the  palace,  (which, 
by-the-bye,  is  a  pretty  shabby  concern  altogether,)  in  a  small 
apartment.  Received  me  in  a  sort  of  drab  surtout,  with  slippers 
down  at  the  heel,  and  without  a  cravat.  Dine  alone  and  very 
heartily,  which  is  what  I  have  not  done  for  nearly  three  months. 
Have  not  eaten  my  dessert,  when  I  see  it  announced  in  an  after- 
noon paper  that  the  cholera  is  supposed  to  have  re-appeared  at 
Antwerp.  Repent  of  my  appetite  ;  diet  again, — nothing  new  to 
me,  especially  as  good  English  fare  is  said  to  be  the  best. 

In  the  evening,  go  out  en  voiture  to  see  the  illumination ;  not 
at  all  brilliant,  and  no  other  evidences  of  popular  enthusiasm. 
Streets  pretty  full,  but  not  so  much  so  as  I  expected,  moderate  as 
my  expectations  were.  Crackers  and  squibs  thrown  about  with 
sufficient  license ;  thought  it  prudent  to  raise  the  glasses  of  my 
carriage,  something  of  the  kind  having  been  thrown  over  the 
top  of  it. 

At  half-past  10,  to  a  soiree  at  Latour  Maubourg's,  which, 
owing  to  the  departure  of  many  of  our  fashionables  for  the 
watering-places,  and  the  absence  of  others,  was  triste  enough. 
Yet  I  staid  till  12.  For  a  wonder,  Miss  Morris,  whom  I  had 
made  up  my  mind  not  to  salute  and  studiously  avoided,  sjyoke 
to  me,  and  we  actually  carried  on  an  amiable  conversation  for 
ten  minutes.  Afterwards  her  mama  asks  me  to  come  to  her 
house  to-morrow  evening.  I  had  a  talk,  again,  with  Lord  Ed- 
ward Somerset.  Mr.  Northey  tells  me  I  have  been  highly  com- 
plimented in  the  "Morning  Herald'1,  at  the  expense  of  Sir  Robt. 
Adair.  I  tell  him  half  the  friendship  in  the  world  is  like  that : 
praise  the  love  of  one,  to  spite  another. 

25/A  July.  Count calls  to  sell  me  his  carriage  ;  no- 
thing decided.  Receive  a  letter  from  Mrs.  Holbrook.  Pay  a 
call,  en  caleche,  at  Mr.  Taylor's.  See  the  Prince  there,  who  is 
just  returned  (an  hour  ago).  Tells  me  Lady  Charlotte  desired 
to  be  remembered  to  me.     In  the  evening  to  Lady  Morris' — the 


68  DIARY  OP  BRUSSELS. 

first  time  this  six  months.  Play  whist.  A  Polish  exile  plays 
admirably  on  the  piano-forte.  I  am  invited  to  go  there  again  on 
Saturday, — rather  too  much  of  a  good  thing.  What's  the  mean- 
ing of  this  change ?     Cut  bono  ?     Return  at  midnight. 

26th  July.  Very  much  occupied  to  day,  finishing  letter  to 
Hammond,  to  whom  I  send  an  extract  from  this  journal ;  write 
to  my  mother  also.  Send  the  two  letters  by  way  of  England. 
Nothing  worth  recording  the  rest  of  the  day,  except  a  drive  in 
the  evening  (half-past  9  to  half-past  10)  by  moonlight.  Del 
Chambre  excuses  himself  for  having  taken  away  my  carriage 
and  hired  it. 

27th  July.  German  lesson ;  reading  the  Cid  in  the  original 
and  German  translation  ;  find  I  make  a  sensible  progress.  Go 
out  en  caleche  in  quest  of  a  carriage,  being  determined  to  depend 
no  longer  on  Del  Chambre,  who  is  a  thorough-paced  scoundrel. 
Look  at  several ;  two  please  me  very  much, — but  the  price ! 
Get  down  on  the  Boulevard  du  Jardin  Botanique  and  walk. 
Loveliest  day  decidedly  we  have  had  this  summer ;  warm,  with- 
out being  hot,  even  in  the  sun,  while  there  is  none  of  that  chilli- 
ness in  the  air  that  makes  any  exposure  to  it,  even  in  the  hottest 
weather,  dangerous. 

Dine  alone  ;  bowels  out  of  order  ;  if  the  cholera  should  break 
out,  should  be  rather  uneasy.  After  dinner,  call  for  Mr.  Seymour 
en  caleche  and  drive  in  the  Allee  Verte,  where  we  meet  the 
Taylors,  the  Prince  and  Sir  George  Hamilton.  Go  thence  to 
Mr.  Taylor's,  where  I  was  invited  yesterday  to  play  whist  with 
the  Prince.  Do  play  three  rubbers,  all  which  I  win.  Tremen- 
dously annoyed  by  my  bowels  while  playing.  All  agreeably 
surprised  by-a  party  of  strolling  Tyrolese,  who  strike  up  a  song 
at  the  bottom  of  Mr.  Taylor's  conservatory,  which  communicates 
with  his  suite  of  rooms.  Presently  Hamilton  and  others,  with 
Mr.  Deeds  and  the  Seymours,  begin  to  waltz  and  gallop  to  this 
wild  music.  At  three-quarters  past  10,  I  go  to  another  musical 
soiree  at  Lady  Morris'.  Find  them  in  the  midst  of  a  duet,  piano 
and  harp,  and  in  full  ecstacy ;  the  harper  is  some  famous  French 
performer.  Company  listening  with  deep  and  silent  attention. 
Remark  Lord  Wm.  Paget,  who  is  just  come.  Speak  to  the  lady 
of  the  house.  Am  rather  overcome  with  the  heat  and  the  music 
together,  and  soon  file.  In  bed  at  half-past  11,  but  don't  sleep 
well.  Began  to-day  a  very  clever,  that  is,  sensible,  pamphlet  on 
the  necessity  of  re-establishing  the  kingdom  of  the  Pays  Bas, 
printed  at  the  Hague,  as  it  is  said,  a  few  weeks  ago. 

28^  July — Sunday.  Send  newspapers  to  America,  and  write 
to  McMillan  King.     Dine  at  the  Prince's  en  petit  comite.     In 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS.  69 

the  evening  call  at  Lady  Hastings',  when  that  omnipresent  and 
eternal  bore,  Mr.  Brurenbrock,  comes  in.  Bath  to-day  and  long 
walk. 

29/A  July.  Ball  at  Mr.  Northey's.  Long  talk  with  Madame 
de  Bethune. 

30th  July.  Very  unwell  to-day, — nervous  and  cholerick.  Buy 
a  carriage, — 3700f. 

31  st  July.  Better  than  I  was  yesterday.  Send  to  Del  Cham- 
bre  to  come  and  take  his  horses,  his  coachman  having  wounded 
himself  severely  last  night,  or  rather  been  wounded,  by  a  horse 
treading  on  him.  Sign  an  agreement  about  my  carriage,  and 
begin  from  that  moment  to  repent.  Straitened  by  money  sent 
to  America.  I  am  now  5000f.  in  debt, — making  thirty  and  odd 
thousand  I  have  spent  since  I  have  been  here.  Horrible  this 
gene  of  an  American  salary,  to  one  living  necessarily  a  VEuro- 
peene. 

1st  August.  Hip,  spleen,  vapors, — all  the  horrors  that  haunt 
an  empty  purse, — full  of  every  thing  but  hope.  A  Capt.  Messina, 
proscribed  in  Italy  for  political  opinions,  comes  to  beg.  I  give 
him  10f,  and  regret  I  could  give  no  more ;  but  the  government 
allows  us  nothing  for  the  unfortunate — except  sympathy,  a  dis- 
cretion ;  of  that,  at  least,  Jonathan  is  certainly  prodigal. 

2d  August.  Mr.  Henry  calls,  on  his  return  from  the  Rhine. 
I  invite  him  to  dine,  sans  f agon,  which  he  consents  (apparently 
by  way  of  conferring  a  special  favor)  to  do.  His  daintiness  of 
speech,  aping  the  worst  style  of  English  manners,  quite  oppres- 
sive. In  the  course  of  conversation,  talks  of  American  women 
as  loud.  Tell  him  not  those  I  happen  to  know ;  and  I  seize  the 
occasion  to  remark,  without  seeming  to  mean  an  inuendo,  that 
some  of  the  English  err  on  the  other  extreme.  After  he  is  gone, 
I  write  to  the  Mr.  McGregor  whom  Sir  R.  Adair  presented  to  me, 
to  come  and  join  us,  which  he  very  kindly  consents  to  do.  Pretty 
good  dinner  for  an  improvisation  on  a  jour  maigre.  I  produce 
the  best  wines, — Johannisberger,  Montillado  Sherry,  Rota  (1810) 
and  old  Carolina  Madeira,  which  my  guests  praised  very  much 
and  drank  copiously,  remaining  with  me  until  10  o'clock.  Mr. 
Henry,  having  been  consul  at  Gibraltar  for  twenty  years,  may 
be,  as  he  pretends,  a  good  judge  of  Spanish  wines.  He  tells  me 
the  two  I  gave  him  are  as  good  as  can  be  found, — but  the  old 
Madeira  seemed  to  be  the  favorite.  He  began  by  telling  me  he 
had  already  dined  at  the  table  oVhote  of  the  Hotel  de  Flandre 
with  his  children  ;  but  he  did  pretty  well  notwithstanding. 


70  DIARY  OP  BRUSSELS. 

3d  August.  I  send  to  Mr.  McGregor  the  number  of  the 
Southern  Review  containing  my  article  on  those  blackguards. 
the  Benthamites.  Write  to  Mr.  Mark.  At  half-past  8,  go  to 
the  Prince's  and  play  whist  there  until  12  ;  win  23  points.  In- 
vited to  dine  there  on  Monday. 

Ath  August.  Walk  out.  Receive  a  letter  from  Mary,  at 
Greenville,  21st  June.  Begin  one  to  her.  In  bad  spirits  ;  want 
of  money;  bad  dinner,  which  makes  'em  worse.  Evening,  call 
at  Mr.  Seymour's ;  Mrs.  S.  and  Emma  gone  to  Ostend  for  the 
latter's  health. 

5th  August.  Receive  from  Mr.  Patterson,  who  is  just  return- 
ed from  London,  Mr.  Wheaton's  book  on  the  Northmen,  which 
I  send  to  Lady  Flora  Hastings,  with  a  note  begging  her  to  ac- 
cept of  it  as  a  souvenir  of  Brussels.  Mr.  Fitzgerald  comes  in 
at  the  very  moment  with  three  late  Examiners.  I  tell  him  I 
have  bought  a  carriage,  and  want  horses.  He  cautions  me 
against  keeping  my  coachman,  who  was  formerly  in  his  service, 
and  a  very  worthless  fellow ;  yet  this  coachman  shewed  me  a 
certificate  of  good  behaviour  from  Mr.  Fitzgerald  !!  This  intel- 
ligence makes  me  very  uneasy,  for  circumstances  place  me  some- 
what at  the  mercy  of  this  man  for  the  present.  Go  to  Damoot 
&  Co.  to  know  when  the  banking-house  is  to  stop  its  operations, 
according  to  a  recent  notice.  Tells  me  I  may  be  easy  about  it. 
Returning,  call  on  Mr.  McGregor,  who  is  just  on  the  wing  ;  see 
him  for  five  minutes.  Make  a  toilette,  and,  at  5,  dine  with  the 
Prince.  Present,  Sir  R.  Adair,  Hamilton,  Seton,  and  Marquis  de 
Jumelle,  Lord  and  Lady  Wm.  Paget,  Lady  de  Rottenbourg,  Mr. 
Crampton  (the  new  attache  to  the  English  embassy)  and  myself. 
At  dinner,  Lord  William  is  introduced  to  me,  at  his  request,  by 
Hamilton.  After  dinner,  he  comes  up  to  me  and  thanks  me  for 
the  attention  I  have  paid  his  wife.  I  tell  him  we  have  all  petted 
her  a  great  deal.  Conversation  then  turns  on  our  navy,  national 
prejudice  between  England  and  America,  etc.,  etc.  He  is  very 
complimentary  and  civil,  but  how  very  disagreeable  it  is  to  have 
to  prefix  the  same  proem  to  every  conversation  with  a  new 
English  acquaintance.  Afterwards,  Mr.  Crampton  asks  Hamil- 
ton to  introduce  him  to  me,  which  is  done.  He  is  a  handsome 
young  man  of  twenty-nine,  with  a  grey  head,  inclining  already 
to  baldness ;  has  been  three  years  in  St.  Petersburg  ;  knew  Mr. 
Middleton,  who,  he  says,  was  very  well  liked  there.  Says  Ran- 
dolph's presentation,  etc.,  was  the  "funniest"  thing  of  the  kind 
that  had  ever  taken  place, — little  Clay  was  left  alone,  friendless 
and  unknown.  Lord  Hatesbury  (forgetting  animosities)  sent  for 
him  to  dine  with  him,  out  of  compassion,  and  afterwards  treated 
him  with  all  manner  of  kindness.     Mr.  Buchanan,  a  very  good 


DIARY  OP  BRUSSELS.  71 

sort  of  man,  but  so  destitute  of  all  the  requisites  of  a  diplomatist, 
that  he  (Mr.  C.)  can't  conceive  why  he  went  to  St.  Petersburg ; 
where  he  lives  in  a  part  of  the  town  which  is  a  perfect  terra 
incognita,  and  there  is  no  society  at  St.  Petersburg  but  the  Court. 
So  it  goes, — and  that  is  reptiblican  wisdom.  Why  the  devil 
send  an  ambassador  at  all  ?  Sir  Robert  asks  me  what  they  are 
to  do  with  Portugal.  I  tell  him  recognize  Dona  Maria.  He  says 
yes,  with  a  regency.  I  declare,  in  like  manner,  for  a  regent,  for 
Pedro  is  no  better  than  My-jewel.  Note — I  said  the  Lords  had 
done  a  foolish  thing  in  rejecting  the  Jews'  bill ;  Sir  R.  thinks  it 
well.  Invited  to  dine  again  at  the  Prince's  on  Wednesday.  Mr. 
Taylor  says  Lady  Win.  P.  won't  speak  to  him,  and  supposes  it 
is  because  the  Prince  gave  her  mama  a  hint  about  her  flirting 
so  with  Perier ;  says  he  don't  care  a  pin  about  her,  and  still  in- 
vites her,  but  that's  all.  They  all  go  to  the  play  to  see  the  first 
representation  of  uLes  deux  enfans  d?Edouard?\  by  Casimir  de 
la  Vigne  ;  I  return  to  my  solitude. 

Buy  an  edition  of  Seneca  to-day,  whose  works  I  am  deter- 
mined to  read  over  by  a  remark  in  De  Maistre's  Soirees,  that  he 
had  undoubtedly  heard  St.  Paul  and  learned  from  him  to  speak 
of  Hoving  God",  which  no  heathen  philosopher  before  him  had 
ever  done. 

6th  August.  Gen.  Desprez  dies  this  morning  at  5  o'clock.  I 
made  my  respects  to  him  at  Lady  Morris'  last  soiree,  where  he 
was  with  his  only  child,  a  singularly  fine  girl  of  fifteen  or  six- 
teen, now  left  alone  in  the  world,  though  with  a  very  good  for- 
tune,— £2000  a  year,  dit-on.  This  is  a  prodigious  great  loss. 
He  was  Chef  d'etat-Major-General,  and  a  man  of  sterling  merit. 

Receive  a  note,  in  answer  to  mine,  from  my  adored  Lady 
Flora, — thanks  and  acceptance,  but  dry  to  ravish.  Long  walk ; 
see  preparations  making  for  the  8th.     Dine  alone. 

7th  August.  Dine  at  the  Prince's,  and  play  cards  there  in 
the  evening. 

8th  August.  Baptism  of  the  Prince.  I  go  to  St.  Gudule  in 
my  carriage,  with  a  pair  of  horses  on  trial.  Immense  crowd  in 
the  streets.  The  choir  of  the  church  prepared  to  receive  the 
king  and  the  royal  family,  the  corps  diplomatic,  the  clergy,  the 
ministers,  the  legislative  body,  the  bar  and  the  bench,  etc.  Gal- 
leries on  its  sides  filled  with  ladies  and  their  attendants.  Cere- 
mony performed  by  the  Archbishop  of  Malines.  Q,ueen  of 
France,  Marraine, — King,  represented  by  the  Duke  of  Orleans, 
Parrain.  The  two  young  princesses,  Marie  and  Clementine, 
with  the  Duke  of  Nemours,  in  the  royal  tribune  as  spectators. 
After  the  baptism,  a  Te  Deum.     On  going  out,  I  find  my  car- 


72  DIARY  OP  BRUSSELS. 

riage  not  there,  and  get  up  with  Hamilton  in  his.  After  waiting 
a  long  time,  my  servants  come  home  and  sit  down  to  their  break- 
fast, which  they  eat  so  deliberately,  that  I  do  not  get  to  the 
palace  until  the  reception  is  over.  Return  immediately,  and 
write  an  account  of  the  events  of  the  day  to  Mrs.  Holbrook  and 
my  sister  M.  Dine,  at  7,  at  Court, — 140  converts.  Besides  the 
chiefs  of  the  corps  diplomatique,  ministers,  etc.,  chairmen  of  all 
the  deputations  of  felicitation  there.  I  see  there  the  archbishop, 
who  is  a  hale,  handsome  man,  just  turned  of  forty.  At  table,  I 
remark  on  his  promotion,  and  say  I  suppose  he  is  of  an  influen- 
tial family.  Not  at  all,  replies  Madame  de  Stassart, — the  son  of 
vl  farmer.  The  King  and  the  Queen  of  France  very  images  of 
happiness.  Dinner  very  pleasant :  crowd  before  the  palace  im- 
mense, and,  as  half  (at  least)  of  it  is  of  the  feminine  gender, 
view  from  the  windows  of  the  chateau  very  striking  and  pictur- 
esque. Illumination  at  night,  and  really  much  popular  enthu- 
siasm,— the^rs^  I've  seen. 

9th  August.  Funeral  of  Gen.  Desprez,  and  death  of  poor 
Des  Voeux,  the  excellent,  intellectual  and  learned  attache  of  the 
British  legation,  loving  and  beloved  of  one  of  the  sweetest  wo- 
men I  ever  saw, — a  daughter  of  the  late  Lord  Ellenborough.  I 
went  to  St.  Jacques  sur  Candenberg,  but  was  requested  to  go  to 
the  house  of  Gen.  Desprez.  After  waiting  a  long  while,  we  fol- 
lowed the  body  pele-mele  to  the  church.  A  long  funeral  service, 
with  sprinkling  of  holy  water  and  castings-up  of  incense,  enough 
to  exorcise  all  the  "legion"  of  hell.  Then,  en  voiture,  we  follow 
the  hearse.  When  we  got  about  midway  the  park,  in  the  Rue 
Royale,  my  new  horses  become  restive,  stop,  turn  around,  and 
refuse  to  budge,  until  led  off  by  my  footman.  I  am  horrified,  as 
well  I  may  be,  at  this  untoward  circumstance  ;  and  consent  to 
my  coachman's  request  (which  he  makes  in  an  evident  funk)  to 
his  withdrawing  immediately,  but  Mr.  Fitzgerald,  who  is  with 
me,  urges  me  on.  We  go  on,  with  occasional  stops  and  tricks 
of  my  horses,  until  near  the  Allee  Verte,  they  come  to  a  stop, 
and  I  abandon  the  procession  and  return  home. 

10th  August.  Coachmaker  comes  for  his  pay.  Congratulates 
me,  for  the  horses  I  had  were  quite  unbroken.  Invitation  to 
dine  at  Mr.  Fitzgerald's  on  Monday. 

11th  August — Sunday.  Mr.  Patterson  calls.  Newspapers 
from  America.  Call,  with  Mr.  P.,  to  see  his  sisters  and  brother. 
Returning,  see  the  king  reviewing  a  regiment  of  artillery  on  the 
Boulevard.  Occupied  all  day  with  reading  England  and  Eng- 
lishmen by  Bulwer.  In  the  evening,  call  at  Lady  Hastings'  and 
stay  till  after  10. 


DIARY  OP  BRUSSELS.  73 

12th  August.  Dine  at  Mr.  Fitzgerald's.  Meet  there  the 
Hastings',  and and  his  wife,  exiled  from  Milan  on  ac- 
count of  politics  some  ten  years  ago,  and  all  his  fortune  seques- 
tered ;  but  he  has  since  inherited  some  50,000  francs  a  year  in 
Belgium.  Have  a  long  talk  with  him  about  their  sufferings  and 
prospects  ;  the  former  much  greater  than  the  latter,  I  fear  me. 
His  wife  quite  a  blondine,  and  very  amiable.  Say  they  are 
charmed  to  make  my  acquaintance,  and  promise  to  cultivate  it. 
Lady  Flora  speaks  Italian  with  them  perfectly  well.  In  the 
evening,  Seton,  the  Frekes  and  others  come  in.  The  former  is 
very  frisky  and  facetious,  and  so  loud  that  his  wit  is  not  lost 
upon  the  most  distant  ears,  albeit  not  attentive,  I  find  him  very 
impertinent  in  his  conversation  with  the  ladies,  to  whom  he 
addresses  the  coarsest  vulgarity  and  freedoms  of  approved  dandy 
conversation  ;  and  am  so  annoyed,  that,  at  three  quarters  past  9, 
I  plead  illness,  because  I  felt  disgust,  and  took  my  leave,  think- 
ing on  the  unspeakable  perversion  of  society,  by  which  such  a 
creature  is  as  much  courted  as  he  is  hated.  He  is  the  very  type 
of  the  Dandy  Venomous  of  Bulwer,  except  his  information,  of 
which  this  variety  of  it  hath  a  most  plentiful  lack. 

13th  August.  Mr.  King,  a  relation  of  the  Hastings',  who 
dined  at  Lady  Charlotte's  yesterday,  sends  his  card.  Mr.  Pat- 
terson and  his  brother  call :  I  have  a  long  talk  with  them.  They 
go  away  to-morrow  or  the  day  after.  So  much  the  better  for 
me,  for  1  felt  bound  and  inclined  to  show  them  some  costly  at- 
tention, (a  dinner  or  soiree  dansante,)  and  my  poor  purse . 

The  weather  is  cold,  though  clear,  and  I  have  a  cold. 

\\th  August.  The  Miss  Pattersons  call  on  me  to  execute 
some  law  paper,  with  their  younger  brother.  Have  a  long  talk 
with  them ;  very  lady-like  persons.  Lady  Flora  Hastings  sends 
me  Manzoni's  tragedies.  Dine  at  the  Prince's.  His  nephew, 
Prince  Peter,  there.  Sir  R.  Adair,  Count  Latour  Maubourg,  etc. 
Rain  in  the  evening  prevents  my  calling  on  Madame  de  Latour 
Maubourg. 

15th  August.  Dine  at  the  Prince's  again,  at  half-past  4,  en 
petit  comite ;  only  Prince  Peter,  Marquis  de  Jumelle  and  I. 
Whist  after  dinner  until  8,  when  the  Princes  went  to  the  theatre 
and  I  promener, — a  pied  go  to  the  theatre  in  the  park ;  see 
Pothier  playing  the  Tailleur  de  Jean  Jacques.  He  is  old  and 
rather  passe,  but  still  admirable;  his  talent,  though  in  farce,  is 
imposing. 

16th  August.     Dine  at  home.     Occupied  all  day  writing  and 
vol.  i.— 10 


74  DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 

copying  dispatch  to  Secretary  of  State :  send  it  off,  enclosing 
letters  to  Mrs.  Holbrook,  my  sister  and  Bishop  England. 

Rather  indisposed  with  a  cold  ;  therefore  send  an  excuse  to 
Mr.  Taylor  for  not  assisting  at  his  soiree. 

\7th  August.  On  coming  down  to-day,  see  a  letter  from  Mr. 
Lebeau,  Minister  of  Justice,  who  has  got  into  a  scrnpe  by  deliv- 
ering up  a  fraudulent  bankrupt  to  the  French  government,  at 
the  instance  of  M.  de  Latour  Maubourg,  begging  to  be  informed 
what  our  American  usage  is.  I  write  him  what  I  know  and 
think  on  the  subject,  and,  afterwards,  send  him  an  extract  from 
the  treaty  of  '94  touching  the  giving  up  of  murderers  and  for- 
gers. Go  to  my  banker's  for  money.  Shews  me  letters  of  credit 
in  favor  of  Americans, — among  them  one  for  £10,000,  from  the 
Barings,  in  favor  of  David  Seers  of  Boston.  Mr.  Seymour  calls 
to  know  if  I  am  alive,  having  been  absent  from  all  reunions  for 
some  days  past ;  offers  to  take  me  to  the  Prince's,  to  which  I 
consent.     Go  there  at  5 — petit  comite. 

ISth  August — Sunday.  Before  I  come  down  or  out,  my  ser- 
vant brings  me  the  card  of  Mr.  White  of  Florida,  M.  C.  I  order 
that  he  be  shown  up.  Came  yesterday,  goes  to-morrow.  After 
some  conversation  learn  he  visits  Waterloo  to-day.  Ask  him  to 
bring  his  wife  and  dine  with  me  en  petit  comite  after  his  return. 
Go  out  on  foot ;  call  on  Lady  Charlotte  Fitzgerald  ;  see  all  the 
Hastings',  who  are  positively  going  on  Tuesday.  Call  after- 
wards on  Mr.  White  (of  Brussels),  just  returned  from  England. 
Take  a  bath  and  wait  for  my  guests.  After  6,  Mr.  W.  comes 
without  his  wife,  who  hasn't  time  to  dress.  Rather  vexed  at 
this  ;  good  dinner.  After  it,  go  with  him  and  see  Madame. 
Tells  me  she  is  au  desespoir  at  not  having  come  just  as  she 
was,  but  she  thought  it  wouldn't  do  to  make  so  free  with  a 
diplomat e.  See  Mr.  Seers  there,  who  excuses  himself  for  not 
having  called.  No  excuse — he  might  have  sent  his  card.  After 
a  great  deal  of  talk  with  Madame,  (I  learn,  among  other  things, 
that  Cruger  is  married  to  Miss  D.,)  I  return,  through  a  rain,  at 
about  1 0  o'clock.  She  promises  to  call,  before  she  sets  out  to- 
morrow for  Spa. 

19th  August.  At  12,  Mr,  and  Mrs.  W.  call  according  to  pro- 
mise, to  see  my  house,  which  I  tell  them  I  shall  be  under  the 
necessity  of  giving  up  unless  government  help  me.  They  say 
they  will  electioneer  for  me,— good-bye. 

A  box  of  clothes  brought  me  from  London  via  Ostend.  I  am 
charged  54f.  for  expenses, — duties,  I  suppose.  I  fly  into  a  furi- 
ous passion, — say  I  won't  pay  it,  and  that  they  may  all  go  to 


DIARY  OP  BRUSSELS.  75 

Ihe  devil.  Then,  says  the  commissioner,  I  shall  take  the  box 
with  me.  You  sha'n't,  says  I,  and  a  pull  ensues  between  him 
and  my  servant,  in  which  I  afterwards  take  a  hand ;  but  as  he 
is  much  more  in  earnest,  he  carries  off  the  subject-matter  of  the 
contest.  Then  ensues  a  long  parley, — I  demanding  what  the 
expenses  were,  and  that  a  distinction  might  be  made  in  the 
account  they  render  between  duties  and  the  other  charges.  The 
fellow  is  obstinate,  but  by  no  means  so  violent  and  impertinent 
as  my  absurd  conduct  gave  him  a  right  to  be.  A  sense  of  this 
takes  possession  of  my  mind  while  he  was  there,  and  I  feel 
deeply  humiliated  at  this  renewed  instance  of  the  furor  brevis 
to  which  I  am  so  lamentably  liable,  and  vow  reformation.  Sit 
down  and  write  to  his  employers,  requesting  them  to  give  me 
the  necessary  information ;  and,  afterwards,  write  to  the  vice- 
consul  at  Antwerp  to  see  to  the  matter  for  me.  Go  out  to  walk  ; 
afflicted  and  thoughtful, — grieving  at  my  fatal  weakness,  the 
sin  that  so  easily  besets  me,  and  wondering  how  any  reasonable 
being  can  be  so  foolish.  But  my  nerves,  my  blood  !  It  is  the 
body,  not  the  spirit,  that  sins  !  Rain  comes  on  while  I  am  out, 
and  helps  to  cool  me.  Dine  alone.  At  half- past  9,  call  on  Lady 
Hastings  and  stay  there  an  hour.  While  I  am  there  Lord  James 
Stuart  comes  in  ;  Sir  Robert  Adair  and  Mr.  Crampton.  I  take 
leave  of  this  charming  family  with  the  deepest  regret,  and  shake 
hands  with  them  all,  expressing  my  desire  and  my  hope  of  see- 
ing them  again. 

Note.     Every  body  going  to  Italy. 

20th  August.  Invited  to  play  whist  at  the  Prince's  this  eve- 
ning ;  which  I  do,  and  come  away  winner  of  34  points.  Invites 
me  to  dine  with  him  to-morrow. 

2lst  August.  Del  Chambre  comes  in,  under  pretence  of 
offering  me,  for  sale,  a  pair  of  carriage  horses,  but  really  to  try 
to  renew  my  former  engagement ;  proposes,  in  consideration  of 
my  having  a  carriage,  for  300fr.  Tell  him  I  will  consider  of  it ; 
meanwhile,  says  he  will  send  me  a  pair  of  horses  to-day  to  go 
out  with, — does  so.  Dine  at  5.  The  only  new  guest  at  the 
Prince's  a  brother  of  Mr.  Taylor's,  who  was  formerly  minister 
at  Berlin. 

In  the  evening,  to  a  soiree  at  M.  de  Latour  Maubourg's.  Ma- 
dame asks  why  I  have  been  so  long  an  absentee.  Company 
very  thin  ;  nobody  in  Brussels,  and  poor  encouragement  to  incur 
expense.  Invited  to  Lady  Morris'  to-  morrow  evening,  (shan't 
go),  and  to  a  farewell  soiree  on  Monday,  (accept).  Lord  Wm. 
Paget  excuses  himself  for  not  having  called  earlier  than  he  did. 
Find  the  evening  rather  heavy,  and  am  off  at  11. 


76  DIARY  OP  BRUSSELS. 

Mem.  Between  dinner  and  half-past  8,  play  at  the  Prince's 
with  infamous  luck,  losing  51  points.  Much  talk  about  Lebeau 
and  the  ministry,  whose  signal  incapacity  all  admit  and  deplore, 
but  don't  know  how  to  remedy.  Lebeau  is  decidedly  clever,  but 
so  very  a  coward  (morally,  at  least)  that  he  is  always  throwing 
himself  into  danger  in  order  to  avoid  it ; — e.  g.,  in  debate,  the 
other  day,  he  made  use  ot  the  information  I  gave  him  and  the 
extract  from  the  treaty  of  '94.  He,  at  the  same  time,  cites  the 
newspaper  he  sent  me ;  but  because,  in  the  note  I  wrote  him 
containing  all  the  information  I  had  to  give,  I  told  him  it  was 
not  for  me  to  say  what  bearing  it  had  upon  the  question  before 
the  house,  as  it  would  be  improper  in  a  foreign  minister  to 
meddle  with  the  internal  affairs  of  a  country,  he  takes  occasion, 
after  reading  his  newspaper,  to  say,  I  had  not  sent  it  him  ;  that 
/  would  not  have  done  so,  nor  he  requested  it,  for  it  would  have 
been  inconvenable.  Now,  for  the  fact,  it  was  true, — I  did  not 
send  the  newspaper ;  for  the  inference,  obviously  insinuated, 
that  I  had  not  sent  any  other  of  the  things  he  relied  on,  it  was 
false ;  and,  for  the  comment art/,  that  it  would  have  been  unbe- 
coming of  me  to  have  furnished  him  with  this  or  any  other  in- 
formation, without  officiously  arguing  the  question  before  the 
Chamber,  it  was  equally  impertinent,  groundless  and  dangerous. 
Should  the  real  state  of  the  case  ever  come  to  the  knowledge  of 
the  public,  they  will  say,  "in  denying  the  fact,  you  admitted  its 
criminality  in  law,  and  you  stand  before  us,  and  your  friend,  the 
minister  of  the  United  States,  with  you,  condemned  out  of  your 
own  mouth."  Thus,  by  his  "cowardly  rashness",  a  perfectly 
innocent  affair  is  made  a  high  misdemeanor,  and  punished  with 
all  the  shame  and  remorse  of  guilt.  Such  is  the  legitimate  con- 
sequence and  just  recompense  of  every  deviation  from  truth  and 
integrity,  however  slight ;  and  there  never  was  a  better  proof 
that  honesty  is  true  wisdom. 

22d  August.  Receive  two  letters  from  the  Department  of 
State  ;  one  about  the  ratification  of  the  treaty,  the  other  (most 
truly  American)  limiting  the  contingent  expenses  of  this  mission 
to  $500  a  year.  Now  this  is,  in  fact,  a  great  deal  more  than 
they  have  been  for  the  past  year,  even  should  they  allow  me 
office-rent, — but  the  niggardly,  and,  what  is  worse,  (I  sup- 
pose,) narrow-minded  and  foolish  policy  of  thus  attempting  to 
circumscribe  contingency,  and  reduce  their  diplomatic  repre- 
sentative to  the  condition  of  a  broker's  out-door  clerk  !  Heav- 
ens !  "the  magnificent  affluence  of  North-America",  as  Bulwer 
calls  it, — illustrated  in  this  most  vulgar  and  miserly  parsimony 
about  candle-ends ;  and  a  system  under  which  all  elevated  and 
gentlemanly  feeling,  even  in  their  highest  officers  and  represen- 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS.  77 

tatives,  is  utterly  crushed,  dignified  with  the  name  of  economy, 
while  millions  are  squandered  upon  the  wildest  projects  at  home, 
because  they  feed  noisy  and  active  ragamuffins. 

23c?  August.  Go  out  to  the  Chambers  to-day,  to  see  how  the 
motion  of  Gendebier  &  Co.,  to  impeach  Lebeau  for  the  extradi- 
tion of  the  French  rogue,  comes  on.  The  tribunes  all  full.  In 
that  of  the  corps  diplomatique,  Count  de  Latour  Maubourg  with# 
three  French  gentlemen,  a  Vair  distingue.  Afterwards  comes 
in  a  fourth,  whom,  I  afterwards  learn,  is  the  Duke  de  Choiseul. 
Hear  Nothomb  conclude  an  able  and  victorious  defence.  The 
whole  pack  of  the  opposition  open  together  when  he  sits  down, 
but  like  hounds  that  have  lost  the  scent.  Their  coarseness, 
grossierte  and  personality  beat  even  our  Congress, — c'est  tout 
dire.  But  what  is  more,  they  are  cracked,  stark  mad,  (and  those 
who  are  not  for  another  row,  if,  indeed,  there  be  any  such,  of 
which  I  have  very  great  doubts,)  and  as  ignorant  of  public  affairs 
as  children.     Horrid  day,  like  November. 

24tth  August.  Receive  a  card  from  the  Duke  de  Choiseul. 
Baron  de  Pocderle  calls,  and,  among  other  things,  describes  to 
me  the  horrors  of  Bonaparte's  military  despotism  in  Belgium, 
especially  after  his  reverses  in  '12.  The  conscription,  according 
to  this  account,  was  the  most  dreadful  engine  of  terror  and  tor- 
ture ever  invented  by  a  tyrant.  Yet  its  victims,  after  staying 
six  months  in  the  army,  were  sure  to  be  devoted,  heart  and  soul, 
to  the  emperor, — such  was  his  talent  de  fanatiser  ceux  qui 
s'en  approchaient.  Take  this  example  of  despotism :  Madame 
d'Outremont,  whose  son  had  been  conscribed,  offered  the  empe- 
ror half  her  fortune  to  let  him  off.  Madame,. he  replied  coldly, 
your  fortune  and  your  son  alike  belong  to  me. 

Go  out  at  3,  en  voiture.  Call  at  Mr.  Taylor's,  Lord  W.  Pa- 
get's,  and  at  the  Hotel  de  Bellevue,  to  inquire  for  the  person  who 
left  me  a  card  this  morning,  and  writes  himself  "Grantz  Mayer 
de  Baltimore" — don't  find  him.  Go  to  Mayer's  librairie  and 
borrow  Trelawney's  "Younger  Son."  This  person  is  he  to 
whom  (quite  unknown  to  me)  I,  at  the  request  of  Mr.  Vail, 
Charge  d'affaires  of  the  United  States  at  London,  (equally  un- 
known,) gave  letters  to  my  friends  in  Carolina.  Yet  I  did  not 
know  how  to  refuse,  and  so  I  described  him,  as  described  to  me, 
as  an  English  gentleman.  Have  heard  of  him  from  two  quar- 
ters,— learn  he  is  so  much  pleased  with  Charleston,  that  he  pur- 
poses returning  thither.  Dine  at  6,  at  Mr.  Northey's.  Small 
party  of  English ;  two  new  arrivals, — one  of  them  an  officer 
(army  or  navy) ;  talks  about  his  love  of  the  Americans, — same 
old  topic.  Asked  to  stay  in  the  evening,  but  have  an  engage- 
ment.    Mr.  White  tells  me  he  will  come  to-morrow  and  read  to 


78  DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 

me  something  he  has  written  about  Mr.  Gendebier's  attack  on 
Lord  Ponsonby.  On  being  reminded  that  the  said  G.  de  13.  is 
good  at  a  hair-trigger,  says  that  he  has  taken  that  into  the 
account !!     Bah ! 

2oth  August.  Read  "The  Adventures  of  a  Younger  Son"; 
clever  but  not  interesting,  so  far  as  1  have  read.  If  a  true  story, 
indeed,  it  would  be  better, — but,  as  a  fancy  piece,  so  so.  Call, 
*  en  voiture,  on  the  Duke  de  Choiseul ;  leave  my  card.  Dine  at 
home.  After  dinner,  call  at  Mr.  Seymour's.  At  a  quarter  past 
9,  go  to  a  grand  ball  given  in  the  fine  Salle  de  Grand  Concert, 
by  the  officers  de  la  garrison  de  Bruxelles,  in  honor  of  the 
queen's  fete.  No  English  ladies  there  but  Lady  and  Miss  Morris, 
and  Mrs.  White,  with  a  Miss  Gore  that  is  here  de  passage.  The 
two  latter  only  dance.  Great  many  Belgian  women.  King 
comes  in  at  half-past  9,  and  stands  all  the  while,  speaking  to 
people  about  him.  Before  he  comes  in,  I  have  a  talk  with  Baron 
Evain,  Minister  of  War,  who  has  a  very  long  face  and  thinks 
war. not  improbable  in  the  spring.  Sooner  or  later  it  will  come, 
I  dare  say ;  for  things  can't  remain  where  they  now  are,  with 
such  violence  in  the  liberal  party  both  in  Prance  and  Belgium. 
I  stay  at  this  ball,  stewing  and  stupid,  until  the  king  goes,  and 
retire,  myself,  at  11,  with  a  shirt  wet  with  perspiration. 

N.  B.  Another  illumination  (third),  but  knowing  nothing  of 
it,  I  don't  join. 

26th  August.  Write  to  Count  de  Merode,  acting  Minister  of 
Foreign  Affairs,  about  the  wow-ratification  of  the  treaty  conclud- 
ed at  Washington  between  the  Secretary  of  State  and  the  Bel- 
gian Resident.  Walk  out.  Dine  alone  ;  while  at  dinner,  receive 
an  invitation  from  Gen.  and  M.  la  baronne  d'Hoogvorst,  to  dine 
at  their  chateau  to-morrow  at  5, — accept.  After  dinner,  read 
Trelawney's  novel.  At  10,  go  to  Lady  Morris'  party ;  almost 
exclusively  English.  Talk  to  Miss  Freke  and  others,  of  break- 
ing my  heart  because  they  are  going  away.  Return  to  bed,  at 
half-past  11,  through  a  lovely  moonlight. 

27th  August.  Receive  a  letter  from  Mr.  McLane,  enclosing 
one  from  Petigru  at  Washington,  and  another  from  my  sister  at 
Buncombe.  P's.  health  bad  ;  poor  fellow,  I  hope  not  perma- 
nently. Tells  me  of  an  English  girl's  (Miss  L.)  being  seduced. 
I  saw  into  that  matter  two  years  ago,  and  think  her  parents 
richly  deserve  it.  Tells  me  they  are  dissatisfied  at  Washington 
with  me,  for  having  expressed  my  doubts  about  the  failure  of 

the  nullifiers.     If  they  don't  like  it,  they  must .     Just  see 

what  we  democrats  are  !  Doctor  Pangloss  Candide !  motley's 
your  only  wear.     A  third  of  heaven's  host  pulled  down  by  that 


DIARY  OP  BRUSSELS.  79 

arch-tempter   C******,— so  much  the  better!     The  President's 
nose  pulled  till  it  bleeds  by  a  cashiered  ruffian,— so  much  the 

better,  etc.,  etc.     I'll  see  them  all  before  I  lie  thus  to 

others  or  myself.     Such  optimism  is  precisely  the  ruin  of  the 
country. 

2Sth  August.  Day  thrown  away, — operose  nihil  agendo, — 
except  reading  some  pages  of  Xenophon  de  Republica  Athenien- 
sum,  which  is  a  fine  specimen  of  Socratic  irony.  Ought  to  have 
noted,  that  I  dined  yesterday  at  the  Chateau  of  Meysse,  with 
Gen.  baron  d'Hoogvorst.  The  king  was  there  at  a  partie  de 
chasse.  I  was  invited  to  dine  at  5  ;  got  there  at  half-past ; — 
ushered  into  the  salon,  where  I  saw  Mad.  and  Mademoiselle 
d'Hoogvorst,  and  Mad.  de  Latour  Maubourg,  with  Mr.  Conecny, 
the  king's  secretary.  After  some  time,  Mad.  Leon  d'Hoogvorst 
comes  in.  It  is  delicious  weather, — le  plus  beau  jour  de  la  belle 
saison.  We  go  out  to  breathe  the  fresh  air  and  look  at  the  fine 
garden  and  chateau.  A  boat  is  tied  to  a  pier-head  on  the  pond  ; 
we  get  into  it,  and,  with  immense  trouble,  (for  the  water  was 
low,)  we  get  it  afloat,  and  calling  a  peasant  to  our  assistance,  row 
(that  is,  are  rowed  by  Wappes,  his  name)  to  the  other  end  of 
the  pond  and  back.  The  sun  is  setting  when  we  return  into  the 
house,  but  it  is  long  before  the  sportsmen  come  in.  At  length, 
half-past  7,  they  are  announced,  the  king  at  their  head, — M.  de 
Latour  Maubourg,  Casimir  Perier,  Hamilton,  and  all  the  d'Hoog- 
vorsts  in  their  costume  de  chasse.  After  the  necessary  compli- 
ments, H.  M.  (who  was  in  a  short  coat,  or  coatee,  and  gaiters) 
goes  off  to  Lacken  ;  and,  after  another  delay,  to  allow  the  sports- 
men to  make  a  toilette  for  dinner,  famishing  (for  I  had  eaten 
nothing  but  a  little  dry  toast  for  twenty-six  hours)  I  find  myself 
at  table,  and  a  very  abundant  and  rather  good  repast  before  us. 
At  half-past  9,  return  by  the  loveliest  moonlight  that  ever  shone 
upon  the  harvest-home,  and  am  at  home  at  11. 

To-day  (Wednesday)  dine  at  the  Prince's.  Don't  know  why, 
find  the  dinner  party  stiff  and  cold.  I  believe  the  cause  is  with- 
in— the  letter  I  got  yesterday.  I  never  hear  from  home  without 
a  decided  depression  of  spirits, — regrets  both  private  and  public. 
After  dinner  return  home  and  read  a  novel  until  a  visiter  comes 
in.  Do  not  go  to  Latour  Maubourg's  in  the  evening  ;  tired  of 
the  everlasting  sameness  of  the  society. 

Invited  to  dine  at  Lacken  to-morrow, — tant  pis, — though  I 
shall  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  the  sweet  little  queen,  in  the 
first  bloom  and  pride  of  maternity.  I  am  afraid  things  are  not 
going  well  for  the  dynasty  in  other  respects.  It  seems  to  me  it 
has  no  friends  that  can  be  depended  on,  except,  indeed,  all  the 
priests,  of  whom  I  know  nothing.  The  opposition  hate  the 
present  order  of  things  so  much,  that  I  don't  believe  they  would 


80  DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 

stick  at  a  restoration,  with  conditions ;  and  there  is  more  than 
one  speck  of  war  on  the  horizon.  Then  there  is  no  ability 
civil  or  military,  in  the  country,  adequate  to  such  a  crisis.  Be- 
fore dinner,  I  hint  this  to  Sir  R.  Adair,  who  tells  me  he  is  very 
much  of  the  same  way  of  thinking.  At  table,  I  broach  the 
subject,  more  especially  in  reference  to  France,  to  Count  de 
Latour  Maubourg,  but  he  thinks  all  well.  Notts  verrons.  Per- 
haps he's  right. 

29th  August.  Dine  at  Lacken.  We  first  assembled  in  the 
fine  rotunda,  from  which  we  go  out  upon  the  steps  behind.  The 
view  from  them  is  very  beautiful.  Through  one  vista  you  catch 
a  view  of  Brussels.  At  the  foot  of  the  eminence  on  which  the 
chateau  is  built  is  a  sheet  ot  water ;  beyond  which  is  the  road 
to  Antwerp ;  and,  on  the  other  side  of  that,  (the  great  eye-sore 
of  the  chateau,)  a  huge  factory  of  some  sort  or  other,  with  its 
cittish  and  money-making  look.  The  Court  is  in  mourning  for 
some  relative  of  the  king's,  but,  the  Grand  Marshal  having  given 
no  notice  of  it,  the  corps  diplomatique,  who  are  all  present,  omit- 
ted the  sad  trappings.  Madame  de  Latour  Maubourg  is  dressed 
in  white  with  ostrich  feathers,  and  contrasts  violently  with  the 
deep  purple  of  Mad.  de  -Vilain  XIV.,  the  only  dame  du  palais 
who  was  there.  The  third  lady  (there  were  only  three)  was 
Madame  Leon  d'Hoogvorst,  to  whom  I  gave  my  arm.  Just  be- 
fore I  went  up  to  her,  I  saw  M.  Rogier,  Minister  of  the  Interior, 
approaching.  She  declined  his  offer,  telling  him  she  had  been 
laid  out  as  a  match  for  me  by  the  Grand  Marshal  himself.  R. 
richly  deserved  this  public  expose  of  his  manque  d'usage.  On 
my  right,  at  dinner,  sits  M.  de  Georlache,  President  of  the  Court 
of  Appeals,  with  whom  I  have  a  good  deal  to  say  about  lawyers, 
law,  etc.  Tells  me  L'Herminier  is  a  very  young  man.  I  say 
his  book  is  an  "ouvrage  dejeune  hommeP  "Civil  law  not  stu- 
died in  France",  and  he  agrees  the  bar  there  is  fallen  off.  After 
coffee,  and  her  majesty  is  seated,  we  go  up  one  by  one  to  rnake 
our  compliments.  She  asks  me  how  I  have  been,  during  the 
long  time  she  has  not  seen  me.  I  tell  her  well,  and  "hope  she  is 
as  happy  as  she  has  made  others."     "You  are  very  good,"  etc. 

After  a  long  and  tedious  soiree,  (warm  withal),  we  get  off  at 
about  9  o'clock  ;  an  event  somewhat  hastened,  probably,  by  the 
delicacy  of  Mr.  Fallon,  a  member  of  the  House  of  Representa- 
tives, (the  same  whom  Hamilton's  coachman  whipped  the  other 
day,)  who  fainted  away. 

Lovely  moonlight.  After  my  return,  I  throw  off  my  armor 
and  take  a  solitary  walk.  In  bed  (not  being  very  well)  at  half- 
past  10;  and  am  "sicklied  o'er  with  the  pale  cast  of  thought" , 
for  I  don't  know  how  I  shall  make  both  ends  meet  with  my 
American  salary,  without  totally  reducing  my  establishment. 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS.  81 

Living  from  hand  to  mouth  in  a  Court,  or  giving  up  society 
altogether,  seems  to  be  the  only  alternative. 

Note.  Mr.  Lebeau  thanks  me  again  for  the  aid  I  gave  him, 
when  he  was  attacked  in  the  Chamber  the  other  day. 

30th  August.  Dine  at  Sir  R.  Adair's  ;  only  Sir  Brook  and 
Mr.  Taylor,  Seton,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Jenkins,  Van  Praet,  and  the 
two  secretaries  of  the  English  legation  and  myself.  At  table,  I 
am  speaking  of  Bulwer's  book  on  England  and  Englishmen  to 
Van  Praet,  sotto  voce.  To  my  great  surprise,  Sir  R.  overhears 
me  and  says,  "Ah !  he  is  one  of  those  corrupters  of  our  lan- 
guage, with  his  grasp  of  intellect"  etc.  This  was  pronounced 
with  so  much  heat,  that  I  remembered  then,  for  the  first  time, 
Bulwer's  saying  of  the  English  corps  diplomatique  that  there 
was  not  a  man  among  them  up  to  mediocrity,  except  fulano 
Lamb,  a  man  of  fashion.  Seton,  who.  of  course,  begins  forth- 
with to  rail  at  him,  (for  how  should  his  malignity  overlook  such 
a  chance  ?)  cites  this  impertinence,  and  then  they  all  fall  upon 
the  poor  author,  to  whom  they  give  no  quarter.  It  is  hinted  by 
somebody,  that  he  (Bulwer)  is  aiming  at  being  made  a  foreign 
minister  himself.  On  the  whole,  the  subject  proves  to  have  been 
an  unlucky  one  for  me  to  touch  upon  ;  though,  as  I  did  it  in  a 
tete-a-tete,  I  had  no  reason  to  expect  such  an  explosion.  The 
truth  is,  however,  that  Sir  R.  has  reason  to  be  indignant  at  this 
sweeping  condemnation  of  himself  and  his  colleagues,  for  he  is, 
at  any  rate,  a  shining  refutation  of  it.  An  honester  English 
statesman  never  lived,  and  few  abler  public  men  are  to  be  found 
any  where.  I  have  been  frequently  struck  at  the  great  precision, 
perspicuity  and  force  of  his  dispatches,  which  he  has  repeatedly 
done  me  the  honor  to  allow  me  to  peruse.  But  Bulwer  is  a  man 
of  talents  and  an  enlightened  political  writer,  for  all  that, — 
bating,  always,  his  radicalism  and  Benthamitism.  I  sent  him, 
the  other  day,  my  article  on  the  Utilitarians,  to  make  him  reflect 
a  little  on  that  matter. 

31st  August.  This  day,  fourteen  years  ago,  I  was  in  Aix  la 
Chapelle.  Del  Chambre  comes  in,  with  whom  I  strike  a  bargain 
for  horses  the  next  month, — 215  francs  ;  but  it  is  too  much. 

While  I  am  at  my  German  lesson,  a  young  American  is  an- 
nounced and  shown  up  stairs,  who  proves  to  be  a  townsman  of 
my  own,  second  son  of  the  late  John  Middleton, — and  who  pre- 
sents me  a  letter  from  Jas.  Hamilton,  Jr.  He  has  been  recently 
appointed  to  deliver  a  eulogium  on  the  late  R.  J.  Turnbull. 
He  begs  me  to  pay  his  young  ward  some  attention,  (which  I  cer- 
tainly shall,  for  my  love  for  the  old  Charleston  race  is  as  strong 
as  life,)  and  to  give  him  letters  to  Paris.  The  boy  himself  is  very 
young — only  19.  He  sailed  from  Charleston  to  St.  Petersburg, 
vol.  i. — 11 


82  DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 

and  came  back  by  Hamburg ;  Mr.  Buchanan,  late  Minister  to 
Russia,  brought  him  as  far  as  Aix  la  Chapelle  in  his  carriage. 
Says  Mr.  B.  is  ordered  to  be  in  the  United  States  by  the  10th  Dec, 
and  is  hurrying  on  to  Paris  because  of  the  report  of  the  Presi- 
dent's dangerous  state  of  health.  Should  like  to  see  him,  not- 
withstanding ;  and  hope  he  may  be  able  to  visit  Brussels,  since 
he  was  to  have  gone  to  the  Hague  on  some  errand  or  other. 
Invite  my  little  countryman  to  dine  with  me  to-morrow. 
It  is  dreadful  weather  ;  an  equinoctial  storm  ;  ennui. 

1st  Sept. — Sunday.  Storm  continues  so  that  I  do  not  go 
out  the  whole  day.  Write  a  note  to  M.  de  Robiano,  returning 
the  Soirees  de  St.  Petersbourg  of  M.  de  Maistre,  which  he  had 
lent  me.  Read  some  hundred  and  thirty  pages  of  the  Confes- 
sions of  St.  Augustine,  which  are  a  strange  enough  composition, 
to  be  sure.  Not  having  read  any  bad  Latin  for  a  long  time,  or 
any  work  not  classical,  am  shocked  at  the  style,  though  it  re- 
minded me  of  Jeremy  Taylor's  diffuseness. 

Wait  dinner  for  my  young  countryman  until  nearly  7.  He 
neither  comes  nor  sends  an  excuse ;  so  I  dine  alone  by  candle- 
light. 

2d  Sept.  Mr.  Middleton  calls  and  apologizes  for  not  having 
come ;  "though,"  says  he,  with  great  naivete,  "I  suppose  you 
hardly  expected  me."  I  tell  him  ]  will  call  at  3,  and  take  him 
in  my  carriage  to  see  the  chateau  and  grounds  of  Lacken, — 
which  I  do.  I  take  leave  of  him  at  half- past  4,  having  given 
him  a  letter  to  Mr.  Warden,  at  Paris. 

Dine  at  Mr.  Taylor's  at  6.  See  Mr.  Butler,  who  is  just  re- 
turned, looking  remarkably  well.  Gives  an  account  of  Percy 
Doyle's  falling  from  a  horse,  by  which  he  broke  his  head  and 
lost  his  senses  for  twenty-four  hours.  After  dinner,  whist ;  I 
lose  two  rubbers,  and  excuse  myself  for  playing  no  longer. 
Return  home  at  half-past  10. 

Sir  Robert  Adair,  I  learn,  was  taken  so  ill  on  Saturday,  while 
at  dinner,  at  his  own  house,  with  a  large  party  of  officers,  that  he 
had  to  leave  the  table  and  go  to  bed.  He  has  been  in  danger, 
but  is  better. 

3d  Sept.  Bad  weather  continues.  At  half-past  2  clears  away 
a  little.  I  go  out  on  foot,  having  suffered  much  from  want  of 
exercise.  On  my  return,  call,  en  voiture,  upon  Mr.  Fitzgerald, 
who  gives  me  a  number  of  the  Examiner,  and  asks  me  to  dine 
with  him  enfamille, — Mr.  King,  a  nephew  of  Lady  Hastings, 
being  the  only  person  invited.  Take  a  bath,  by  which,  and  the 
use  of  the  flesh  brush,  I  am  wonderfully  refreshed.  Dine  at  6 ; 
very  pleasant  partie  quarree.     Lady  Charlotte,  who  knew  Lord 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS.  83 

Byron  well,  entertains  me  with  several  anecdotes  of  him.  The 
lady  who  rejected  him,  just  before  he  proposed  the  last  time  for 
Miss  Milbank,  was  Miss  or  Lady  Keith.  The  young  person 
who,  Moore  thought,  would  have  managed  him,  was  a  relation 
of  Lady  Charlotte's,  and,  she  says,  entre  nous,  the  last  woman 
in  the  world  she  would  have  thought  of  matching  with  Byron  : 
cold,  haughty,  repulsive,  slow  of  apprehension,  though  very 
sensible.  Says  Lady  Byron  was  one  of  the  dullest  persons  in 
the  world.  How  could  it  be  expected,  as  somebody  remarked, 
that  such  a  union  could  end  well ;  where  one  was  all  imagina- 
tion, and  the  other  all  calculation  ?  What  seemed  most  disgust- 
ing to  Lady  C.  was  the  profound  hypocrisy  of  their  conduct 
towards  Byron,  who  had  no  idea  what  was  going  to  happen. 

At  half-past  7,  go  to  the  Prince's  to  play  whist,  and,  having 
won  35  points,  go  home  and  sleep  comfortably.  Night  dark  and 
cloudy. 

Sir  R.  Adair  much  better  to-day  ;  but 

Ath  Sept. — worse  this  morning,  having  passed  a  bad  night. 
News  of  tremendous  havoc  among  the  shipping  in  the  channel 
of  the  Thames,  by  the  late  (or  rather  present)  storm.  Count 
Lenowski  calls  with  Count  Plater,  another  Polish  refugee,  whom 
he  introduces  to  me,  and  with  whom  I  have  a  long  conversation 
about  America  principally.  A  very  intelligent  and  perfectly 
well-bred  man.  Goes  on,  to-morrow,  to  Aix,  whither  he  is 
taking  the  Countess  to  the  waters.  After  a  walk,  I  dress  and  go 
to  dinner  at  the  Prince's ;  where  Hamilton  tells  us  Sir  Robert 
Adair  is  as  ill  as  possible,  and  his  disease  is  afievre  tierce.  He 
is,  it  seems,  seventy-two  years  of  age.  After  dinner,  the  Prince 
plays  at  whist.  I  do  not  join.  Hamilton  apologises  for  sitting 
on  the  right  of  the  Prince  at  dinner,  saying  the  Prince  had 
directed  him  to  do  so  ;  which  I  don't  exactly  comprehend.  Bad 
weather  continues,  though  it  occasionally  clears  up  for  a  few 
moments.  It  is  very  cold  for  the  season  ;  fire  rather  agreeable 
than  otherwise. 

5th  Sept.  Receive  a  visit,  to-day,  from  a  gentleman  who  sends 
in  his  card  as  "le  Chevalier  Frost."  Recollect  hearing  Sir  R. 
Adair  and  Hamilton  speak  of  him  as  very  anxious  to  be  pre- 
sented. He  is  shown  up;  and  I  presently  after  go  into  the 
drawing-room,  where  I  see  two  gentlemen.  One,  with  specta- 
cles on  nose,  and  apparently  the  spokesman,  introduces  himself 
as  Sir  Somebody  Frost,  and  tells  me  that,  being  on  a  scientific 
tour,  he  thought  he  would  take  the  liberty  of  calling  upon  "my 
Excellency."  Whereupon  I  read  my  man  through  at  once,  and 
have  a  long  talk  with  him  about  his  botanical  studies,  Paris, 
America,  etc.,  etc.     He  is  as  raw  as  a  boy  just  from  College.     I 


S  1  DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 

never  saw  greater  simplicity,  and  should  suppose  he  had  been 
knighted  for  it ;  though  very  amiable  and,  of  course,  single- 
hearted  withal.  His  companion  was  a  doctor.  "Dr.  Bowring'/" 
said  I.  "No,  Dr.  Winder."  He  had  been  in  Canada  during  the 
war,  (whither  he  is  going  again,)  and  was  present  when  his 
namesake,  Gen.  Winder,  was  taken  prisoner.  "The  resemblance," 

said  he .     "Indeed."  said  I,  "now  you  mention  it,  I  think 

you  do  resemble  him."  Out  again, — he  meant  the  resemblance 
of  their  names,  and,  I  suppose,  resembles  him  in  person  as  much 
as  the  thief  on  the  cross.  Take  their  leave,  and  then  I  go  out 
en  voiture.  Meanwhile,  see  the  Seymours  passing.  Madame 
looks  better,  but  Emma. not.  Mr.  Fitzgerald  tells  me  where  I 
may  find  a  pair  of  horses  for  sale.  Tell  him  I  am  going  to 
travel,  and  don't  think  I  shall  buy  till  I  return.  Weather  seems 
breaking  off. 

6th  Sept.  While  I  am  at  my  German  lesson,  to-day,  my  ser- 
vant brings  me  the  card  of  "Charles  Stuart  Perry,  des  Etats- 
Unis,"  whom,  according  to  the  standing  order  in  regard  to 
Americans,  he  has  shown  into  the  drawing-room.  I  excuse  my- 
self to  my  maitre  de  langues,  and  present  myself  with  "sad 
civility"  to  the  strange  guest  up-stairs.  As  I  enter,  "Mr.  Legare," 
saith  he  ;  "I  suppose  you  don't  remember  me."  "Your  face  is 
familiar  to  me,  but  I  really  do  not  know  at  present  where  it  is  I 
had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you."  "I  met  with  you  only  once  ; 
but   have   never   forgotten  that  evening."     "Where  ?    when  V 

"Recollect  where  you  were  on Sept.,  1830."     In  short,  Mr. 

Charles  Stuart  Perry  was  a  person  I  met  with  at  a  little  country 
inn  at  Lancaster,  in  South-Carolina,  on  the  eve  of  a  dinner  at 
which  I  had  the  honor  of  assisting  as  an  invited  guest,  in  com- 
pany with  his  Excellency  Gov.  Miller  and  the  said  C.  S.  P.,  who 
was  just  arrived  from  Alabama,  and  who  was  one  of  the  last  men 
in  the  world  I  should  ever  have  expected  to  encounter  on  this 
side  of  the  Atlantic.  As  it  was,  I  narrowly  missed  that  happi- 
ness. He  had,  it  seems,  actually  taken  his  seat  in  the  Diligence, 
and  was  almost  off,  when  he  found  out  I  was  here.  He  did 
not  hesitate  a  moment  to  put  off  his  departure  until  3,  in  order 
to  see  me,  and  so,  by  12,  he  was  at  my  door.  Almost  as  soon 
as  I  got  into  the  room,  he  began  to  talk  of  General  Dwernycki, 
whose  acquaintance  he  had  made  in  hunting  up  Gen.  La  Fayette, 
and  to  whom  he  introduced  himself  as  a  friend  of  Poland  and 
liberty,  etc.,  etc.  This  generous  enthusiasm  naturally  (in  an 
Irishman's  buzzom,  at  least)  kindled  into  poetry,  and  it  was  not 
long  before  the  sympathetic  Hibernian  inflicted  upon  me  the 
Lord  knows  how  many  verses  of  his  own  manufacture,  upon 
the  misfortunes  of  Sarmatia.  This  extravagance  nearly  over- 
came my  politeness,  but,  as  I  had  seen  him  in  Carolina,  I  rallied 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS.  85 

and  discussed  nullification  with  him.  Here,  again,  he  was  well- 
nigh  spouting  me  to  death,  for  he  would  have  had  me  listen  to 
the  whole  argument  on  the  other  side,  from  the  very  beginning, 
involved  in  clouds  of  Irish  eloquence.  This  was  worse  than 
Poland,  so  I  cut  him  short  by  thrusting  in  some  victim  of  the 
Czar.  He  had  been  to  Waterloo,  for  "he  had  heard  of  battles 
and  he  longed,"  etc.,  etc.,  and  said  that  had  it  not  been  for  that 
little  taste  of  his,— had  there  been  no  field  of  Waterloo, — he  had 
not  visited  Europe  for  these  ten  years  to  come.  "I'll  give  you  a 
little  souvenir  of  Waterloo."  "O  Lord,"  said  I,  "I  have  been 
there  ;  you  know  they  force  them  on  you  there."  "But  I  mean 
something  of  my  own,"  said  he.  Whereupon,  asking  for  pen, 
ink  and  paper,  he  sets  himself  about  writing  "something,"  he 
says,  "to  be  submitted  to  my  criticism."  After  a  few  moments 
of  diligent  scribbling,  he  held  up  and  read  to  me  some  of  the 
strangest  stuff  that  ever  a  madman  (as  I  now  begin  to  suspect 
he  is)  indited.  "So,  you're  a  poetical  nullifier,"  says  I.  In 
short,  after  talking  with  me  full  two  mortal  hours,  and  per- 
suading me  he  was  one  of  the  greatest  men,  etc.,  he  took  his 
leave. 

7th  Sept.  Mafoi,  non  mi  recordo.  Write  to  the  Count  de 
Merode  about  the  ratification  of  the  treaty,  which  the  ministry, 
through  a  cowardly  subserviency  to  England,  are  manifestly 
shirking.  Mr.  Butler  calls.  Write  to  my  landlord  that  I  can't 
bind  myself  to  keep  his  house  a  year. 

8th  Sept. — Sunday.  Spend  this  day  in  writing  letters  against 
the  next  English  courier :  first,  to  my  mother  ;  second,  to  the 
Department ;  third,  in  the  evening,  to  Petigru.  About  2,  go  out 
en  voiture  ;  for,  mirabile  dictu,  it  is  a  fine  day.  Call  at  Lady 
C.  Fitzgerald's,  where  I  find  Mad.  de  Pocderle  in  the  very  act 
of  taking  leave, — going  to  Ireland  to  be  brought  to  bed  at  home. 
Nice  little  woman,  and,  although  speaking  French  perfectly, 
quite  English.  Take  a  drive  on  the  Boulevard  ;  call,  en  passa?it, 
at  Mr.  Butler's.  Find,  on  returning  to  my  house,  his  card  and 
an  invitation  to  dinner  on  Tuesday.  At  6,  dine  at  the  palace  in 
the  little  apartments.  Dinner  made  remarkable  by  the  presence 
of  a  radical  notabilite,  Dr.  Bowring,  heres  testamentarius  of 
Jerry  Bentham,  and  editor  (dit-on)  of  the  Westminster  Review ; 
a  very  vulgar  Cuistre,  lecturing  incessantly  about  first  principles, 
and  proclaiming  himself,  in  every  word,  look  and  gesture,  Sir 
Oracle.  What  a  world  it  would  be,  if  governed  by  these  self- 
conceited  and  presumptuous  popinjays  ;  and  yet  their  favorite 
theme  of  railing  is  the  arrogance  of  the  aristocracy,  whose  whole 
system  of  manners  (the  very  antithton  of  this  ribald  school)  is 
self-denial.     He  talked  incessantly  at  table  (sitting  next  to  me  on 


S6  DIARY  OP  BRUSSELS. 

my  right)  to  Rogier,  the  Minister  of  the  Interior,  who  listened 
like  a  most  docile  catechumen,  and  apparently  with  immense 
edification.  After  dinner,  when  the  queen  and  her  ladies  are 
seated,  he  goes  up  to  her  majesty  and  harangues  her  in  the  most 
extraordinary  manner  ever  witnessed,  since  the  execution  of 
Marie  Antoinette  ;  thrusting  himself  between  H.  M.  and  the  lady 
next  her,  bobbing  up  and  down  his  head  and  spectacles,  like  a 
duck  in  a  puddle,  gesticulating,  etc.,  etc.  We  looked  on  in 
amaze.  At  last,  Hamilton  puts  the  Grand  Marshal  up  to  going 
to  H.  M's.  deliverance,  by  engaging  her  in  conversation  ;  the 
maneuvre  succeeds,  for,  after  a  few  moments  of  indecision,  the 
Radical  leaves  the  Round  Table  and  comes  up  to  us, — but,  after 
speaking  a  little  while  (in  a  most  absurd  strain  of  egotism), 
finding  no  sympathy  in  our  circle,  and  no  obstacle  to  his  renew- 
ing his  attack  upon  the  queen,  he  is  at  her  again  ;  but  d'Aerschot 
is  on  the  alert,  and  takes  him  off  by  some  means  or  other. 
Crampton  says  he  is  in  advance  of  his  times  a  long  way ;  and 
is  showing  us  a  specimen  of  the  manners  of  the  twenty-fifth 
century.  "Of  all  men  else,  I  have  avoided  thee,"  as  Macbeth 
says  to  another  gentleman,  untimely  delivered,  not  born,  or  if 
born,  earth-born. 

9th  Sept.  Delicious  weather, — warm,  bright  and  genial.  I 
walk,  and  then  go  out  to  drive.  Invited  to  Mr.  Seymour's  again 
this  evening,  (I  was  there  yesterday  evening).  Receive  a  note 
from  Mr.  Levet,  my  landlord,  giving  me  conge,  and  thanking 
me  for  my  kind  note  to  him.  This  pleases  me  much,  for  I  love 
to  be  at  peace  with  all  mankind.  At  Mr.  Seymour's,  in  the  eve- 
ning, a  small  party  given  to  another  literary  radical,  Lady  Mor- 
gan. I  have  always  had,  from  her  writings,  or  the  parts  of  them 
1  have  happened  to  read,  a  great  aversion  to  her,  and  would  not 
be  made  acquainted  with  her,  when  I  might  have  been,  fourteen 
years  ago.  I  could  have  wished  to  avoid  her  this  time  also,  but 
Mrs.  Seymour  insisted,  and  I  can't  refuse  her  any  thing.  Her 
Leddyship  begins  by  high  compliments  to  America,  etc.  I  took 
the  first  opportunity  to  decamp.  Afterwards,  I  heard  Mr.  Sey- 
mour speaking  to  her  of  me,  (as  I  could  plainly  perceive).  She 
looked  at  me  very  hard,  and  on  his  saying  something  very  kind, 
(I  dare  say,  from  his  usual  goodness,)  she  said,  "Ah!  he's  the 
only  one  then, — at  least,  the  only  one  I  ever  saw";  I  suppose 
(ireek  scholar,  or  something  of  the  sort.  She  had  the  good 
sense  to  say  that  mother  Trollope's  book  is  a  very  wicked  one, 
and  the  absurdity  to  propose  that  she  should  herself  go  and 
make  a  better.  Her  husband,  "Sir  Charles",  was  also  of  the 
party,  haranguing  about  the  march  of  mind,  or  something  else 
as  intellectual.     Draw  on  England  for  £60. 


DIARY  OP  BRUSSELS.  87 

10th  Sept-  All  day  occupied  copying  dispatch,  etc.  At  half- 
past  5,  go  to  dine  at  Mr.  Butler's,  where  there  is  a  small  party  ; 
but  am  compelled  (the  Court  going  to  the  play  this  evening)  to 
leave  the  table,  when  the  cloth  is  removed  (as  it  literally  was),  to 
repair  thither.  I  had  taken  a  box ;  Pre  aux  clercs,  given  by 
order.  See  Lady  Morgan  in  Latour  Maubourg's  box.  I  heard 
from  the  sister  of  Mad.  de  Latour,  the  history  of  her  making 
their  acquaintance  in  a  recent  excursion  to  Spa.  It  was  a  perfect 
specimen  of  the  modest  assurance  and  servile  assiduity  by  which 
these  travelling  book-makers  contrive  to  thrust  themselves  into 
good  company, — as,  on  the  other  hand,  the  attentions  shown 
them  are  evidently  bestowed,  or  laid  out  rather,  to  be  repaid  with 

interest  when  the  "tour"  comes  out,  at  page ,  treating  of 

Brussels,  etc. 

I  arrive  at  the  theatre  after  the  king  and  queen,  who  are  very 
punctual  in  their  appointments  with  Demus.  Don't  think  he 
was  very  grateful :  house  not  full,  and  vivats  not  very  loud  or 
hearty ;  though  fully  enough  so  to  justify  a  boastful  representa- 
tion in  a  court  journal.  Spectacle  over  at  half-past  10.  A  son 
of  Mr.  Taylor's,  with  whom  I  had  been  made  acquainted  at  Mr. 
Taylor's,  joins  me  in  my  box  and  goes  home  in  my  carriage  ;  a 
well-bred  and  pleasant  youth,  worthy  of  his  family,  who  are 
very  gentleman  and  woman-like. 

11th  Sept.  Receive  a  card  from  Mr.  Atherton  of  Philadelphia, 
whom  I  had  seen  at  Paris.  Go  out,  en  voiture,  to  return  the 
visit.  Rainy.  See  him,  and  spend  an  hour  in  conversation  with 
him.  his  wife  (a  ci-devant  pretty  woman)  and  his  daughters,  one 
of  whom  is  charmingly  pretty. 

After  dinner,  go  to  a  soiree  at  Count  Latour  Maubourg's. 
Lady  Morgan  (whom  I  rather  like  on  acquaintance,  for  she  seems 
a  good  soul)  is  there,  and  her  two  nieces,  nice  little  girls,  pretty 
and  remplies  de  talents,  as  the  French  say.  Dancing  to  the 
piano  forte,  played  by  Col.  Prozynski.  There  were  half  a  dozen 
young  Poles,  fine  fellows,  full  of  grace  and  spirit.  We  were  all 
interchanging  lamentions  on  their  hard  fate.  Lady  Morgan's 
nieces  sang  two  Italian  airs  very  sweetly.  They  are  the  young 
persons  mentioned  with  such  praise  by  Count  Ptickler  Moskau. 
Have  much  talk  with  the  little  Freke,  who  is  going  away,  and 
promise  to  go  to-morrow  to  see  her  likeness. 

Mem.  I  have  now  no  doubt  that  Casimir  Perier  has,  for  some 
reason  wholly  unknown  to  me,  conceived  a  deadly  aversion — ill 
disguised  by  a  modem  French  smile  and  bow — towards  me. 
So  it  is  with  Prozynski,  who  went  a  great  deal  out  of  the  way 
to  get  presented  to  me,  and,  after  calling  twice  or  three  times  to 
have  a  talk,  was  guilty,  all  of  a  sudden  and  without  assignable 
cause,  of  a  breach  of  politeness,  which  has  made  me  almost 


88  DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 

drop  his  acquaintance.     Both  these  persons  are  very  intimate 

with  Miss ,  whose  detestable  disposition  I  early  divined, 

whose  impertinent  airs  /  have  treated  with  cool  disdain,  and 
who  hates  me,  I  suspect,  as  she  does  the  devil,  (if  she  hates  him 
as  much  as  the  rest  of  her  friends),  because  I  don't  think  her  a 
beauty,  and  have  never  given  her  an  opportunity  to  display  her 
wit  in  conversation  with  her.  I  have  heard  she  vilifies  "Ameri- 
cans", and  I  have  no  mind  at  all  to  win  her  good  graces  for  my 
country. 

\2th  Sept.  A  very  fine  day,  which  I  remark  as  a  very  un- 
usual thing  now-a-days  ;  so  I  go  out  en  voiture.  Call  on  Count 
Plater,  and  ask  him  to  dine  with  me  on  Saturday.  Afterwards 
on  Mr.  Atherton.  Receive,  this  morning,  a  visit  from  Mr.  Trap- 
man  of  Charleston,  who  tells  me  he  came  from  Ghent  on  pur- 
pose  to  see  me,  and  goes  to  Antwerp  to-day.  Invite  him  to  dine 
on  Saturday,  which  he  says  he  will  do  if  he  can.  Invite  Mr. 
Atherton,  but  he  declines, — his  arrangements  being  made  to  go 
on  Saturday.  On  my  return,  call  to  see  how  the  Prince  is, — ill 
of  fever  and  bad  night.  Then  at  Sir  Robert  Adair's,  whom  1 
see  for  the  first  time  since  his  illness  ;  is  very  much  reduced  and 
feeble,  but  not  as  much  so  as  I  expected  to  find  him.  Says  he 
expects  some  notabilitcs  from  London, — among  them  Joe  Hume, 
the  economist ;  adds,  laughingly,  "I  don't  know  whether  to  give 
him  a  very  bad,  or  a  very  good  dinner."  I  advise  him  to  give 
both,  that  Hume  may  judge  for  himself  between  radicalism  and 
(diplomatic)  epicurism.  Says  he  will  make  me  acquainted 
with  them,  and  have  me  to  meet  them.  On  my  return  home, 
see  cards  from  Casimir  Perier  and  his  brother  Paul ;  an  anchor 
cast  to  windward  in  case  of  a  ball,  etc.,  no  doubt.  I  don't  like 
any  bourgeois  gentilhomme,  but  least  of  all  a  French  one.  Pay 
Jones  his  due-bill.  Spend  an  hour  at  Mr.  Freke's,  and  am  quite 
in  love  with  mademoiselle  for  her  goodness. 

13th  Sept.  Don't  remember  any  thing  of  consequence.  In 
the  evening,  at  half-past  8,  call  on  Mr.  Atherton  at  his  lodgings, 
and  see  them  all.  Give  him  some  hints  about  "sight-seeing"  at 
Antwerp.  Meet  with  a  Mr.  Bryant  of  Philadelphia,  who  is  just 
from  Baden,  etc. 

l&th  Sept.  Bothered  by  preparations  for  dinner  and  noise  of 
servants.  Don't  take  my  German  lesson  in  consequence.  Re- 
ceive a  visit  from  Mr.  Bryant.  Walk  out  and  back  ;  read  a  little ; 
dress  for  dinner,  and,  at  6,  receive  my  visiters, — all  English  but 
Count  Plater ;  but,  owing  to  mistake,  (from  verbal  answers,)  two 
of  my  guests  missing,  and  we  sit  down  only  nine.  Good  dinner ; 
four  of  my  men  sit  with  me  at  table  until  12  o'clock, — Fitzger- 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS.  89 

aid,  Butler  and  Nixon,  Paddies,  and  White  an  Englishman. 
Drank  like  Carolinians—  (by-the-bye,  a  decanter  of  old  Carolina 
Madeira  charmed  them  wonderfully).  I  was  surprised  at  the 
coolness  with  which  they  swallowed  glass  after  glass  (as  I 
once  could,  but  never  shall  again),  I  confining  myself  prin- 
cipally to  Hock  and  Seltzer.  My  Johannisberger  and  Lafitte 
font  effet.  I  go  to  bed  horribly  accabU  by  this  tremendous 
seance  of  six  mortal  hours,  which,  from  want  of  habit,  almost 
kills  me  now.  At  one  time  I  had  to  leave  the  table  to  get  fresh 
air,  for  I  was  quite  sick,  though  I  had  eaten  and  drunk  very 
little. 

•  15th  Sept. — Sunday.  Wake  at  8,  so  horribly  done  up  by  my 
"sitting"  yesterday,  that  I  take  a  little  magnesia.  I  have  been 
unwell,  for  some  days  past,  in  the  bowels,  and  although  I  ab- 
stained yesterday,  yet  the  heat  of  the  room,  snuff,  cigars  and 
smoke  were  too  much  for  me.  After  breakfast,  walk  out  on  the 
Boulevard  towards  the  Porte  de  Hal.  On  my  return  meet  with 
the  Chevalier  Frost,  who,  after  many  compliments,  tells  me  he 
is  only  "walking,  and,  having  nought  to  do,  'twill  give  me  great 
delight  to  follow  you."  Says  he  is  charmed  with  me  and  my 
country.  "Why,  just  see,"  said  he,  "what  they  did  for  me  ;  they 
conferred  a  degree  upon  me,  without  having  ever  seen  me  or 
heard  of  me,  just  on  the  strength  of  a  work  in  which  I  devel- 
oped some  new  principles  of  botany  (I  think  it  was).  And  what 
has  England  done  for  me  ?  or  what  have  I  not  done  for  Eng- 
land ?  I  have  given  it  an  herbarium  of  fifty,  I  should  say  fifteen 
thousand  dried  plants, — that's  what  I've  done ;  and  all  I  have 
got  by  it  was  to  be  turned  out  of  my  place  by  Lord  Stanhope : 
for  once  I  used  to  give  dinners  every  week  to  all  the  literary  and 
scientific  characters  that  came  to  London."  This  innocence  and 
naivete  were  quite  charming.  The  conversation  turns  on  Lord 
Stanhope,  who  quarrelled  with  him,  it  seems,  (for  King  Leopold 
had  asked  about  the  cause  of  the  direful  strife  between  Frost 
and  the  Earl,)  about  an  order  and  a  present  (I  think  it  was  a 
sword)  sent  him  as  a  compliment  from  Portugal ;  Stanhope,  in 
his  double  capacity  of  President  of  the  Society  and  a  Peer  of 
the  realm,  protesting  the  honor  was  his  due  and  not  a  common- 
er's. I  walk  past  my  house  and  back  again,  listening  to  his 
simple  chattering,  and  wondering  how  a  man  of  science,  who, 
as  it  appears,  has  been  a  good  deal  in  the  world,  could  be  such 
a  Johnny  Raw.  Chemin  faisant,  he  tells  me  he  feels  very  much 
indebted  to  me,  and  will  give  me  reason  hereafter  for  not  repent- 
ing of  my  civilities.  I  tell  him  it  was  well  he  had  not  told  me 
that  before,  for  the  hopes  of  such  reward  might  have  thrown  a 
suspicion  upon  my  disinterestedness.  Nothing,  however,  really 
horrifies  me  more  than  the  idea  of  getting  into  a  book  ;  if  that 
vol.  i. — 12 


90  DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 

be  the  sort  of  recompense  he  means.  Among  other  tilings  he 
said  of  Lord  Stanhope,  he  declared  him  a  very  hypocrite,  and, 
in  politics,  a  disciple  of  Metternich. 

( 'all  on  Mr.  Bryant  at  Bellevne,  and  take  him  out  to  drive 
with  me  in  the  forest.  Bad  weather  still.  Spend  the  evening 
at  home. 

16//a  Sept.  At  a  soiree,  this  evening,  at  Mr.  White's,  (awfully 
stiff — so  much  so,  that  I  never  went  into  the  principal  drawing- 
room,  but  held  myself  aloof,  in  the  passage,  where  there  was  a 
sofa  and  Lady  Morris  with  me,  besides  some  others,)  a  young 
Pole,  who  is  just  returned  from  a  disastrous  enterprise  in  his 
wretched  country,  is  presented  to  me.  Among  other  things,  he 
tells  me  he  thinks  Louis  Philippe  can't  reign  long.  "What  will 
they  substitute  ?"  say  I.  He  doesn't  know  what  to  answer,  but 
says  the  French  government  is  too  retrograde,  and  won't  be 
borne.  I  tell  him  the  liberals  in  Europe  have  exaggerated  no- 
tions of  free  government ;  that  they  are  to  us  and  the  English 
what  young  lovers  are  to  old  married  people, — they  dream  of 
the  loved  one  as  an  angel  without  blemish,  whereas  she  is  a 
mere  mortal  after  all,  and,  like  every  thing  terrestrial,  requires 
many  allowances  to  be  made  for  her, — especially  in  France,  the 
only  refuge  of  free  thought,  on  this  continent,  and  which  would 
not  be  so  long,  were  its  government  half  so  weak  as  La  Fayette 
and  his  men  would  make  it. 

Afterwards,  Lady  Morgan  comes  to  our  corner.  I  invite  her 
to  take  a  seat  on  the  sofa.  Presently  she  goes  towards  the  door, 
and  comes  back  with  "Sir  Charles",  whom  she  presents  to  me, 
and  who  immediately  begins  to  talk  about  America.  He  asks 
me  what  is  thought  of  Jefferson.  I  tell  him  what  I  think  of  his 
theoretical  politics.  Says  his  meaning  was  what  is  his  reputa- 
tion for  talent.  I  tell  him  very  great,  and  for  orthodoxy  still 
greater, — every  dominant  party  being  the  "only  true  Jeffersoni- 
ans."  I  remark  on  his  style  as  occasionally  faulty  and  affected, 
and  especially  full  of  neologism.  "Aye,"  says  he,  "but  very 
forcible."  No  doubt,  I  reply,  and  then  instance  his  correspond- 
ence with  Genet  and  Hammond,  as  equal  to  any  diplomatic 
pieces  I  ever  read,  and  a  specimen  of  most  triumphant  contro- 
versy. In  the  course  of  the  conversation,  I  mention  Franklin's 
prediction — about  the  trade  of  a  king  being  a  very  bad  one  in 
fifty  years — as  verified.  I  add  that,  as  he  had  proved  that  the 
flash  which  terrifies  us  in  the  thunder-cloud  was  only  the  same 
electricity  that  may  be  excited  by  rubbing  a  cat's  back,  so  his 
severe  common  sense  had  disenchanted  mankind  of  all  the 
prestige  of  worldly  grandeur  and  artificial  distinctions  of  rank. 
He  laughed,  and  seemed  struck  with  the  thought. 

Casimir  Perier  bows  rather  civilly  this  evening,  but  I  pass  on 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS.  91 

without  any  offer  at  speaking.  Poor  Prozynski  comes  up  and 
speaks  to  me.  This,  I  suppose,  in  consequence  of  my  giving 
half  a  guillaume  to  the  dear  little  Freke,  in  aid  of  some  charita- 
ble purpose  of  her's  with  respect  1o  the  Poles,  and  of  my  remark- 
ing on  his  unaccountable  behaviour  towards  me.     Still  rainy. 

\7th  Sept.  Shocking  weather  still.  Receive  a  visit  from 
Count  Plater  and  the  young  Pole  I  spoke  to  yesterday. 

\§th  Sept.  Receive  a  letter  from  Mr.  Harris,  Charge  d'af- 
faires at  Paris,  concerning  Mr.  Livingston's  arrival  at  Cherbourg, 
and  that  he  has  some  newspapers  and  documents  which  he  will 
send  me  by  a  private  hand.  This  fashes  me  not  a  little,  for  I 
never  get  American  news  until  it  is  stale  ;  and  I  write  to  him 
begging  him  to  forward  the  papers  immediately.  I  suppose  he 
is  afraid  of  adding  a  few  sous  of  postage  to  my  account  for  con- 
tingent expenses.  Go  out,  en  voiture,  at  half-past  2,  to  my 
banker's,  where  I  meet  with  Mr.  Fitzgerald,  and,  taking  him  up, 
go  to  his  house  to  see  some  curious  pieces  of  Dresden  China  he 
has  just  bought.  Chemin  faisant,  tells  me  I  gave  them  a  capi- 
tal dinner.  I  express  myself  much  pleased  with  his  report  of 
it,  declaring  myself  a  decided  amateur  of  good  cheer.  Go  thence 
to  see  a  dinner  service  offered  for  sale, — not  good  enough.  In 
returning,  call  on  Count  Plater  at  the  Hotel  de  Bellevue.  Find 
him  au  second  in  a  small  room,  where  Prozynski  presently 
comes.  Go  to  the  Boulevard  du  Jardin  Botanique,  and,  getting 
down  there,  walk  until  half- past  5.  Returning,  call  on  the  pro- 
prietor of  the  Hotel  de  Galles  about  an  apartment  there  which 
I  have  a  mind  to  take  for  six  months  from  December.  In  the 
evening,  to  Latour  Maubourg's.  Small  assembly,  and  all  old 
faces,  except  a  French  lady,  Countess  somebody  (a  fine  woman) 
and  her  daughter.  Lady  Morgan  comes  up  to  me,  and  asks  me 
how  it  happens  that  all  the  ministers  have  called  on  her  but  the 
American.  I  might  have  given  a  better  reason  than  I  did,  which 
was  that  I  am  not  much  of  a  visiter.  She  begged  me  to  supply 
the  omission  as  soon  as  possible.  In  the  course  of  the  short 
conversation  I  had  with  her,  she  told  me  somebody  in  the  Cham- 
bre  des  Representans  had  been  impertinent  enough  to  mention 
her  name :  "I  suppose,"  said  he  to  M.  Jullien,  "the  honorable 
member  utters  his  liberalism  in  hopes  of  finding  a  place  in  Lady 
Morgan's  forthcoming  book  of  travels."  "Wasn't  that  an  unjus- 
tifiable liberty  to  take  with  a  lady  ?"  xlfterwards  I  make  her  sit, 
and  then  Sir  Charles  comes  up,  with  whom  I  talk  all  the  rest  of 
the  evening. 

Mem.  Latour  Maubourg  tells  me  the  king  and  queen  are 
going  to  Paris  early  in  October,  and  he  too  on  a  conge. 

Return  at  12,  having  set  down  Crampton  at  his  own  door. 


92  DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 

complaining  horribly  of  the  partie,  as  being  neither  ball  nor 
conversazione. 

2.  Mem.  Mr.  Fitzgerald  tells  me  Mr.  Butler,  as  being  the 
grandson  of  an  Earl,  thinks  himself  entitled  to  the  pas,  and  is 
rather  nettled  if  he  don't  have  it,  when  there  is  no  one  with 
better  claims  to  it.  I  laugh,  and  tell  him  foreigners  are  not  sup- 
posed to  know  the  pedigree  of  every  English  or  Irish  gentleman. 
I  le  says  surely  not,  and  he  only  mentions  it  to  expose  his  vanity. 

19th  Sept.  Horrible  weather, — rains  a  verse.  I  venture  out 
notwithstanding  on  foot.  Go  to  the  Chamber  of  Representatives, 
but,  finding  the  tribune  diplomatique  closed,  proceed  on  my  way. 
On  my  return  home,  find  that  Seton  called.  He  asked  my  ser- 
vant if  I  dined  at  Mr.  Taylor's;  innuendo,  if  I  did,  to  call  and 
take  him  there  in  my  carriage.  After  dinner,  to  the  Taylor's, 
where  there  is  a  new  set  of  English, — Lord  Cranstoun,  General 
Taylor,  Sir  Charles  and  Lady  Wale,  with  two  pretty  daughters, 
though  of  the  grampus  breed,  Lady  Morgan,  (but  not  her  Sir 
Charles).  I  get  her  to  present  me  to  her  nieces,  Miss  and  Miss 
Somebody  Clarke.  Count  Plater,  who  is  sitting  between  them, 
rises  and  offers  his  place.  I  tell  him,  Je  rt'ose  pas  vous  rem- 
placer  ;  however,  he  insists,  and  I  yield.  I  enter  into  conversa- 
tion, with  Miss  C,  by  telling  her  Prince  Puckler  Moskau  had 
made  her  and  her  sister  his  heroines.  I  find  she  is  not  quite 
pleased  with  the  celebrity  conferred  on  them  by  his  Highness, 
who,  according  to  her  account,  is  no  gentleman.  He  prevailed 
on  the  dowager  Lady  Lansdowne  (old  enough,  I  suppose,  for  his 
grandmother)  to  make  him  a  promise  of  marriage,  and  pay  him 
£4000  for  the  breach  of  it.  He  was  black-balled  at  the  London 
Clubs,  for  some  of  his  sinister  doings.  On  some  public  occa- 
sion, in  Ireland,  he  insisted  on  taking  the  pas  from  the  Duke  of 
Leinster,  Erin's  only  duke,  which  led  to  a  challenge,  and  to  his 
being  put  into  Coventry  for  the  rest  of  the  day.  This  is  quite 
a  nice  little  girl.  She  hopes  that  her  aunty's  book  on  Belgium 
and  our  noble  selves,  may  appear  before  the  "Trollope's."  She 
(Miss  C.)  is  persuaded  that  King  Leopold's  throne  won't  last 
long.  She  declares  more  than  half  of  what  Puckler  says  is 
notoriously  false, — as,  for  example,  Lady  Somebody  calling  on 
him,  and,  on  being  told  that  he  is  in  dressing-gown  and  slippers, 
insisting  nevertheless  on  coming  up.  So  of  his  pretended  inti- 
macy with  Lady  Morgan  and  themselves,  and  the  quHl  aille  an 
diable  put  into  her  sister's  mouth  on  some  occasion. 

20th  Sept.  Mr.  Taylor  calls  with  Lord  Cranstoun  to  see  the 
house,  which  I  show  them  and  recommend.  They  go  to  my 
landlord's  determined  to  offer  £300  a  year  for  it — £75  more 
than  I  pay.     Go  out  en  voiture,  the  weather  being  fine.     Call 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS.  93 

on  the  Morgans ;  thence  to  Mayer's  librairie ;  thence  to  the 
Cbambre,  where,  after  some  difficulty,  I  get  admittance  to  the 
tribune  diplomatique.  Don't  stay  long,  for  Dumortier  gets  up 
to  speak  on  instruction  publique.  Drive  on  the  Boulevard,  and 
get  down  at  the  Porte  de  Schaerbeck  to  walk.  Delicious  wea- 
ther. Prince  Auguste,  who  has  been  ill  for  ten  days,  reported 
in  great  danger, — on  Ta  administre  hier.  Dine,  en  famille,  at 
Mr.  Taylor's, — only  five — Gen.  T.  and  Seton.  After  dinner 
play  whist,  and,  in  five  rubbers,  win  one  franc.  Lord  Cranstoun 
comes  in.     I  give  him  my  place,  and  take  leave. 

Mr.  Taylor  sends  to  see  how  the  Prince  is.  A  very  particular 
answer  is  brought,  by  which  we  are  encouraged  to  hope  that  the 
worst  is  over,  and  that  we  may  yet  meet  this  noble  Amphitryon 
at  his  round  table.  Mr.  T.  tells  Lord  C.  he  is  sorry  the  house 
is  already  engaged  for  a  Mrs.  Tomlinson,  with  as  many  daugh- 
ters as  Danaus. 

2\st  Sept.  The  passing  bell  is  at  this  moment  (11  o'clock, 
A.  M.)  announcing  to  Brussels  the  departure  of  the  head  of  its 
society.  Prince  Auguste  d'Arenberg  is  no  more.  Hamilton 
was  at  the  races  yesterday,  at  the  dinner  at  Court,  and  at  the 
ball  at  night,  dancing  jollily.  There  is  the  friendship  of  this 
world.  But,  on  the  contrary,  Sir  R.  Adair  is  deeply  concerned, 
and  so  are  all  the  Seymours.  Poor  Emma  is  as  much  afflicted 
as  if  she  were  a  daughter.  At  Mr.  Taylor's,  on  the  19th,  I  saw 
Mrs.  Seymour  in  tears,  and  presently  they  all  went  away.  Af- 
terwards, I  learned  that  it  was  because  very  bad  news  had  been 
brought  from  the  Prince's  sick  bed. 

T  have  let  time  run  up  such  a  score  against  me,  that  I  despair 
of  settling  it  fairly,  for  keeping  a  journal  is  no  idleness. 

I  don't  remember  any  thing  about  Saturday  and  Sunday,  the 
21st  and  22d,  except  that,  on  the  latter  of  these  days,  the  pre- 
parations making  for  the  celebration  of  the  quatre  jotirnees, 
already  excite  the  curiosity  of  the  people,  and,  on  Sunday,  the 
boulevards  and  streets  are  more  alive  than  I  have  seen  them 
since  I  have  been  in  Brussels, — precisely  twelve  months  this 
day,  or  the  next  (23d). 

On  Saturday  Sir  Robert  Adair  calls,  and  invites  me  to  dine 
with  him  on  Monday,  where  I  am  to  meet  Mr.  Grant,  President 
of  the  Board  of  Control,  Mr.  Hume  (Joe),  young  Mr.  Senior, 
and  Mr.  Bowring,  the  boring. 

23d  Sept. — Monday.  Salvo  of  artillery,  at  7  this  morning, 
ushering  in  the  first  of  the  days  ;  which  I  pass  in  a  sufficiently 
hum-drum  style, — only,  the  weather  being  fine,  I  go  out  en  vol- 
ture  to  see  the  crowd,  attracted  by  marksmen  shooting  for  prizes, 
etc.     At  6,  dine  at  Sir  Robert's.     Hand  down  to  the  table  Mrs. 


94  DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 

McGregor,  who  looks  very  pretty  this  evening,  and  talks  so 
doucely  in  her  simplicity,  that  she  quite  takes  me.  On  my  right 
is  Mrs.  Senior,  a  good  soul,  apparently  deserving  her  name  bet- 
ter than  her  husband,  but,  without  being  at  all  coarse  or  imperti- 
nent, decidedly  vulgar.  And,  indeed,  so  were  the  whole  set 
except  Mr.  Grant  and  the  McGregors.  Still.  I  like  them  all 
except  Bowring,  whose  outre  cuidance  and  forwardness  are  in- 
sufferable. Mrs.  Senior  was  cracking  jokes  at  the  expense  of 
her  friend,  Mrs.  Hume,  who  had  never  been  abroad  before, 
whereas  Mrs.  Senior  (as  she  took  occasion  to  let  me  know)  had 
been  in  Paris  once  upon  a  time.  "Oh  !  we  have  taken  her  to 
such  strange  places,  and  it  was  so  amusing  to  observe  the  im- 
pression they  made  on  her."  Strange  places,  said  I ;  may  I  be 
permitted  to  inquire  what  these  curiosities  are  !  "Oh,  to  Cafes 
and  Restaurans."  Indeed,  I  reply,  I  don't  wonder  at  her  sensa- 
tions then,  for  I  own  I  never  feel  at  home  in  one  of  them.  She 
misinterprets  this,  and  fends  off  by  saying,  "the  Mar-chio-ness 
(Marchesa)  Accomati  goes  to  them,  and  if  she  can,  I'm  sure  I 
may."  This  answers  the  double  purpose  of  justifying  her  con- 
duct and  letting  me  know  she  knows  that  very  amiable  young 
lady,  whom  I  met  with  some  time  ago  at  Lady  C.  Fitzgerald's. 
After  dinner  I  have  a  long  talk  with  Senior,  who  is  a  very  intel- 
ligent and  unobtrusive  person.  He  asks  me  to  breakfast,  but  1 
tell  him  if  it  is  before  12  it  is  impossible, — for  I  never  go  out 
earlier.  Then  he  tells  me  he  will  send  me  two  publications  in 
which  he  has  had  a  hand, — the  Complete  Reader  of  the  Whig 
Ministry,  and  some  Report  on  the  Poor  Laws. 

In  the  evening  to  Mrs.  Freke's,  where  there  is  a  small  party. 
Count  Plater  tells  me  he  has  called  repeatedly  to  ask  me  a  sin- 
gular though  great  favor, — which  is  to  let  him  use  as  a  pretext 
for  declining  an  invitation  to  a  patriotic  bajiquet,  to  be  given  by 
subscription  to-morrow,  that  he  is  engaged  to  dine  with  me.  T 
tell  him  certainly,  and  it  shall  be  the  truth,  if  he  pleases  ;  so  I 
invite  him,  with  Lenowski  and  another  young  Pole,  to  dine  to- 
morrow. Having  done  so,  I  make  my  escape  very  early,  and 
go  to  bed  at  half-past  11. 

2Ath  Sept.  On  coming  down,  my  servant  asks  me  if  I  am 
going  to  St.  Gudule  to-day  to  assist,  with  the  king,  at  the  mass 
of  the  dead  of  September.  I  tell  him  no.  Afterwards  he  comes 
in,  and  informs  me  the  coachman  had  mentioned  to  him  that 
the  rest  of  the  corps  were  there.  This  throws  me  into  the 
greatest  consternation.  I  expect  to  have  all  the  newspapers  out 
upon  me,  for  my  guilty  conscience  suggests  that  it  is  a  happy 
deliverance  from  the  scene  that  I  fancy  is  to  take  place  after  the 
mass,  at  the  Place  des  Martyrs.  There  never  lived  a  biped 
that  holds  all  that  sort  of  mummery  more  in  horror  and  detesta- 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS.  95 

tion  than  I  do.  So,  without  a  moment's  delay,  I  write  a  note  to 
Seton  begging  him  to  excuse  me  to  His  Majesty, — alleging  that 
I  had  had  no  invitation,  etc.,  etc.,  and  understood  Sir  R.  Adair 
to  say,  yesterday,  that  he  did  not  intend  to  go.  I  wrote  also  to 
Mr.  Livingston,  in  case  the  papers  should  notice  it,  justifying 
my  absence  completely.  But  before  I  sent  my  letters,  I  thought 
it  as  well  to  call  on  Sir  Robert.  On  being  shown  up  to  the 
drawing-room,  I  find  Dr.  Bowring  in  the  act  of  telling  him  what 
a  sensation  the  absence  of  the  whole  corps  diplomatique  had 
created ;  for,  it  seems,  none  of  them  had  gone,  until  about  half- 
past  12,  at  the  instance  of  the  king  himself,  (dit-on,)  who  sus- 
pected some  omission  on  the  part  of  the  ministry,  messengers 
were  dispatched  post-haste  to  beg  us  to  go,  if  possible,  though 
but  for  a  moment, — on  which  Hamilton  and  Crampton  did  pre- 
sent themselves  at  the  Place  des  Martyrs  ;  the  messengers  had 
not  found  my  house,  it  seems,  and  I  was  greatly  relieved  by  the 
information,  and  immediately  call,  according  to  appointment 
yesterday,  on  the  little  Freke,  to  whom  I  address  as  many  com- 
pliments as  my  special  affection  for  her  warm-hearted  and  pretty 
little  person  prompted, — and  those  were  very,  very  many. 

Dine  at  6.  My  Poles  engage  in  a  political  conversation  with 
one  another,  which  they  keep  up  with  the  greatest  animation 
until  past  10  o'clock, — I  occasionally  dipping  in,  but  not  enough 
to  prevent  my  being  mortally  ennuied,  for  I  was  waited  for  dur- 
ing the  last  hour  and  a  half.  The  principal  interlocuteurs  were 
M.  Plater  and  a  young  gentleman,  just  returned  from  a  mad 
expedition  to  Poland,  where  he  escaped  by  miracle,  but  some  of 
his  companions  suffered  death,  after  the  cruellest  torture.  This 
young  man  raves  like  a  maniac  when  he  speaks  of  the  retro- 
grade system  of  the  "11  Mars",  and  prophecies  the  downfal  of 
Louis  Philippe.  Count  Plater  talked  very  much  like  a  man  of 
sense,  and,  being  a  Pole,  like  a  philosopher.  I  threw  out  occa- 
sional doubts  about  the  guilt  of  the  "Juste  Milieu",  and  begged 
to  understand  distinctly  what  were  the  several  charges  alleged 
against  it  by  the  Movement  Party. 

Invited  to  dine  at  the  palace  to-morrow. 

2&th  /Sept.  Before  I  come  down,  Mr.  Burns  of  New- York, 
and  Mr.  Stevenson  of  Albany,  call.  The  latter  sends  me  up 
two  letters  of  introduction. — from  Mr.  Van  Buren  and  Mr.  Wal- 
ter Patterson.  I  have  a  talk  with  them  ;  invite  them  to  dine  on 
Friday.     Decline  ;  going  on  that  day. 

At  12,  go  to  the  race  and  take  my  place  in  the  royal  loge. 
The  scene  was  a  very  animated  one, — the  running  no  great 
things  ;  but  the  race  of  indigenous  horses  (that  is,  English 
horses  bred  in  Belgium)  is  far  better  than  I  had  any  idea  it  was. 
Count  Duval  showed  some  very  fine  beasts ;  and,  what  struck 


96  DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 

me,  entered,  avowedly,  three  of  his  own  for  one  prize.  A  jockey 
of  a  man,  of  the  name  of  Salter,  got  thrown  and  miserably  hurt. 
An  accident  happened  to  another,  run  by  Lord  Wm.  Paget,  a 
wretched  poney,  which  was  easily  distanced.  Sir  R.  A.,  who 
felt  a  Chill,  did  not  get  out  of  his  carriage,  but  sent  me  word  he 
would  be  glad  I  would  fetch  Mr.  Grant  back  to  town, — which  1 
accordingly  did.  I  was  charmed  with  the  good  sense  and  sim- 
ple manners  of  this  person.  As  1  passed  the  Park  and  the  Place 
Royale,  saw  such  a  crowd,  that  one  who  had  not  been  at  the 
populous  race  course  would  have  thought  all  Brussels  was  there. 
The  balloon  was  expected  to  be  going  up,  but  it  was  no  go. 

Dine  at  Court ;  about  seventy  covers.  Before  I  go  Sir  Robert 
sends  for  me.  1  go  and  find  him  in  bed,  in  a  perspiration.  J  le 
begs  me  to  excuse  him  to  the  king,  and  to  do  another  commis- 
sion for  him ;  above  all,  to  let  it  be  known  he  is  not  very  ill, 
but  has  taken  to  his  bed  by  way  of  precaution.     The  portrait 

of is  at  his  side,  in  bed  ;  and  he  dreads  should  the  cursed 

newspapers  get  hold  of  his  indisposition,  that  both  she  and  his 
sister  will  hurry  to  Brussels  at  the  risk  of  their  own  health. 
Poor  old  gentleman :  I  know  how  to  sympathise  with  him  in 
this  deep  and  natural  feeling,  which  the  world  calls  folly,  and 
which,  perhaps,  is  so. 

From  Court,  home  to  rest  a  little.  Then  to  a  ball,  given  by 
subscription,  in  the  Salle  de  Grand  Concert,  where  I  find  their 
Majesties  when  I  go  in.  The  number  of  people  not  so  great  as 
at  the  military  ball  some  time  ago.  The  queen  danced  four 
times,  and  she  dances  perfectly  well:  twice  with  officers  of  the 
garde  civique,  managers  of  the  ball.  Lady  Morgan  is  there 
and  her  husband  and  nieces.  So  is  Hume  ;  who  remarks  that 
they  have  two  things  here  which  they  want  very  much  in  Eng- 
land,— economy  and  morality. 

2C)th  Sept.  Grand  Review,  which  I  don't  see.  Go  out  en 
voiture,  and  find  it  difficult  to  make  my  way  to  the  post-office 
on  account  of  the  troops,  and  back  to  the  Place  Royale,  on  ac- 
count of  the  crowd  that  had  been  to  see  them.  Call  on  Messrs. 
Stevenson  and  Burns, — not  in.  Hear  that  Mr.  Patterson,  with 
his  sisters,  are  at  the  Hotel  de  1'Europe  ;  call, — not  in.  See  all 
the  preparations  made  for  the  grand  concert  to-day.  Returning, 
call  at  M.  de  Latour  Maubourg's,  and  ask  where  the  corps  is  to 
be.  Sends  me  word,  at  the  hotel  of  Count  Werner  de  Merode, 
in  the  Place  Royale,  in  uniform.  Have  just  entered  my  bureau, 
when  Mr.  Patterson  walks  in.  He  has  been  at  Antwerp  some 
three  weeks,  without  my  knowing  it.  I  offer  him  cards  for  the 
enceinte  reservce  ;  he  tells  me  to  give  them  to  Messrs.  Stevenson 
and  Bums,  which  I  do.  Make  a  toilette  and  go  to  the  hotel  de 
M.  W.  de  Merode.     After  some  half  hour  or  so,  the  Latour 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS,  97 

Maubourgs  and  Hamilton  come  in.  Afterwards  their  Majesties 
and  suite.  The  coup  <Tmil  presented  by  the  orchestra  on  the 
platform  of  St.  Jacques  sur  Canderberg,  composed  of  424  musi- 
cians of  the  different  military  corps  in  full  feather,  and  of  that 
beautiful  square  filled  with  many  thousands  of  people,  at  least 
half  of  whom  were  well-dressed  women, — was  magnificent. 
The  performance  of  that  colossal  orchestra  was,  also,  wonderful. 
I  was  particularly  struck  with  its  execution  in  the  overture  of 
William  Tell.  It  was  worthy  of  consideration  that  these  bands 
had  never  before  played  all  together.  Just  before  they  began 
this  glorious  piece  of  music,  which  was  next  to  the  last,  (a  me- 
lange of  the  Marseillaise  and  the  Brabancon,)  it  began  to  rain, 
not  very  hard,  however,  and  thousands  of  umbrellas  were  open- 
ed and  added  to  the  effect  of  the  scene.  But  the  concert,  how- 
ever well-conducted,  was,  like  all  concerts,  tedious,  for  it  was 
too  long, — the  first  part  alone  lasting  an  hour  and  a  quarter,  and 
the  whole  not  being  over  until  past  6,  when  the  sky  was  be- 
coming dark  and  the  audience  hungry.  And  never  did  I  see  so 
large  an  assembly,  gathered  on  such  an  occasion,  discover  such 
perfect  apathy.  As  the  king  and  queen  drove  off,  a  very  few 
voices  in  their  neighborhood  uttered  some  scattering,  faltering 
vivats.  The  bad  weather  was  unfavorable  to  the  illumination 
and  fire-works  at  night,  which,  the  papers  say,  were  very  bril- 
liant. I  saw  a  part  of  the  former, — it  was  any  thing  else.  The 
fire-works  I  did  not  see,  being  so  fatigued  by  to-day  and  yester- 
day's work,  that  I  was  glad  to  get  to  bed  about  10  o'clock. 

27th  Sept.  Horrible  day,  rainy,  dark  and  cold.  Find  the 
race  lakes  place  notwithstanding,  and  that  their  Majesties  attend. 
So  I  sally  out,  and  arrive  in  time  to  see  an  English  horse,  called 
Paradox,  distance  Count  Duval's  whole  stud  at  once  ;  at  the 

which  the  poor  little  sportsman  and   Madame  de  B e  are 

doubtless  very  much  chapfallen.  Neither  Count  de  Latour  Mau- 
bourg  nor  I  went  into  the  king's  loge,  but  stayed  in  the  one  on 
its  right,  where  it  was  horribly  cold.  I  had  a  long  talk  with 
Lady  Morris,  who  tells  me  she  smokes  cigars  constantly,  and  is 
positively  going  on  Monday. 

28th  Sept.  Mr.  Patterson  calls,  and  Mr.  Serruys,  vice-consul 
at  Ostend.  While  Mr.  P.  is  with  me,  Mr.  Fitzgerald  comes  in 
with  an  atlas  he  bought  for  me,  at  a  sale,  some  days  back.  We 
have  a  long  chat,  which  ends  in  my  inviting  them  both  to  dine 
with  me  to-morrow.  Afterwards,  I  go  out  en  voiture,  and  call 
on  my  man  Dubos.  Return  and  go  on  foot  to  the  Frekes', — not 
at  home.  Thence  to  the  Seymours  ;  see  Madame  for  the  first 
time  since  the  Prince's  death.  Tells  me  poor  little  Emma  is 
exceedingly  distressed,  and  weeps  continually, — that  she  has 
vol.  i. — 13 


98  diary  of  Brussels: 

just  prevailed  on  her  to  go  out  and  take  the  air  ;  mentions  many 
little  attentions  of  the  Prince  to  her,  (and  they  were  even  more 
numerous  and  delicate  than  I  thought).  She  weeps,  herself,  as 
she  speaks,  and  tells  me  she  is  glad  she  can  do  so  before  mc,  for 
the  world  might  think  it  ridiculous.  The  world !  As  I  go 
down  I  see  Mr.  Seymour,  and  have  a  talk  with  him.  Ask  him 
if  he  could  reconcile  it  to  himself  to  dine  with  me  to-morrow. 
After  some  hesitation,  begs  me  to  excuse  him.  Thence  home, 
and  finding  myself  extremely  unwell,  (especially  by  that  symp- 
tom of  a  disordered  stomach,  chez  moi,  bad  eyes,)  I  sally  out 
again  on  foot,  and  walk  until  6  o'clock.  As  I  pass,  the  proprie- 
tor of  a  fine  apartment  in  the  Hotel  de  Gallcs  (who  wants  to 
have  me  for  a  tenant)  shows  me  his  stables,  which  are  absolutely 
under  ground.     This  alarms  me  not  a  little. 

I  dine  alone,  and,  at  10  o'clock,  go  to  a  soiree  at  Mr.  White's. 
Some  English  there  of  the  name  of  Wyane,  and  very  few  be- 
sides.    Horribly  cold  and  stiff,  and  so  I  soon  drop  off. 

Most  of  the  persons  T  invite  to  dine  with  me  to-morrow  en- 
gaged. 

29th  Sept. — Sunday.  Had  a  terrible  attack  of  heart-burn 
last  night,  which  compelled  me  to  get  up.  Want  of  exercise  on 
foot  during  these  fetes.  As  I  come  down  to  fill  up  some  letters 
of  invitation,  comes  one  for  me  from  the  Grand  Marshal  of  the 
Court.  Dinner,  of  course,  blown  up.  Excuse  myself  imme- 
diately to  the  gentlemen  who  had  accepted,  and  in  a.  funk  about 
the  time  I  shall  appoint  for  it.  Go  out  (the  day  being  delicious) 
in  my  landaulette  open.  Call  on  Mr.  Patterson — not  at  home. 
Take  a  drive  ;  go  to  Summerhauzen's, — then  home.  At  Court 
at  6.  Before  going  there,  send  out  my  invitations  for  to-morrow. 
At  Court,  give  my  arm  to  Lady  Isabella  Fitzgibbon,  daughter 
of  Lady  Clare,  who  walks  with  the  French  ambassador.  This 
young  lady  charmed  me.  She  would  be  plain  were  it  not  for 
her  fine  dark  eyes — but  she  is  so  sensible  and  agreeable.  Among 
other  things  she  tells  me,  whenever  she  hears  of  mother  Trol- 
lope's  book,  she  thinks  of  Lady  Wellesley, — whom,  she  has 
often  said,  were  she  governess  of  a  Princess  Royal,  she  would 
propose  as  the  most  perfect  model  of  courtly  manners.  She  has 
never  seen  any  body  like  her.  I  really  enjoyed  this  dinner. 
After  it,  Lord  Cranstoun  (who  is  there)  comes  up,  and  says  he 
has  a  grudge  against  me  for  making  myself  so  agreeable  to  his 
young  country-woman,  who  had  told  him  I  paid  her  the  prettiest 
compliment  she  ever  had  in  her  life.  (So  much  the  more  fortu- 
nate I,  for  I  really  can't  remember  what  it  was,  myself.)  I  tell 
him  if  I  did  not  please,  it  was  not  because  I  was  not  pleased, 
for  were  I  a  young  English  lord,  I  should  try  to  make  her  my 
lady.     He  assents, — (he  is  a  handsome  young  man,  about  four- 


DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS.  99 

aud-twenty,  who  seems  to  me  to  be  thinking  of  nothing  but 
marriage,  for  he  fastens  upon  every  pretty  English  girl  he  sees 
with  a  doting  fondness,) — then  he  enters  into  a  long  conversa- 
tion with  me,  which  is  partly  provoked  by  my  telling  him  how 
i  like  the  nobility  of  his  country,  for  their  perfect  ease  and  na- 
ture in  conversation.  For  instance,  Lady  Isabella  had  been 
speaking  with  me  of  her  brother,  (Lord  Clare,)  Governor  of 
Bombay,  with  all  the  unrebuked  rapture  of  a  girl  of  sixteen 
conversing  with  one  of  her  own  age, — calling  him  an  angel, 
the  best  of  men,  brothers,  etc.;  I  was  charmed  with  her  eloquent 
affection,  a,nd  told  her  she,  at  least,  must  be  the  best  of  sisters. 
The  young  lord  just  mentioned  talks  cleverly,  after  a  fashion, 
but  a  V Ecossaise,— that  is,  somewhat  pedantically  and  scholasti- 
cally,  beginning  at  the  beginning,  assigning  the  reason  of  every 
thing,  etc.,  etc.  Mr.  Senior,  who  is  at  my  right,  breaks  in  on 
my  conversation,  and  compels  me  to  join  issue  with  him.  He 
thinks  my  feeling  towards  England  no  fair  specimen  of  the 
country,  which,  he  is  persuaded,  (like  all  the  rest  of  the  Eng- 
lish,) is  decidedly  hostile  to  the  mother  country.  Says  it  is 
desirable  that  the  United  States  should  be  thoroughly  well 
represented  in  England,  and  asks  if  they  have  any  chance  of 
seeing  me  in  that  situation.  I  tell  him  no ;  however,  I  desired 
it,  not  as  being  at  all  worthy  of  the  distinction  implied  in  his 
question,  but  for  the  immense  advantages  a  residence  of  a  couple 
of  years  there  would  give  me.  Begs  me  to  come  after  the  soiree, 
and  see  them  at  their  lodgings.  I  tell  him  I  will  if  I  can,  but 
think  I  sha'n't.  Dr.  Bowring  is  there,  who  looks  shy  at  me  ;  I 
suppose  he  thinks  I  have  treated  him  cavalierly,  as  lam  inclined 
to  do,  or  suspects  me  of  having  something  to  do  with  a  severe 
pickling  Sir  Robert  Adair  gave  him,  some  days  ago,  for  a  piece 
of  flummery  of  his  about  the  rights  of  man  and  the  rascality  of 
diplomatists,  at  a  patriotic  banquet  given  during  the  fetes,  at 
which  he,  Hume  and  Senior  assisted, — neither  is  he  out  there. 
Mr.  Patterson  calls. 

30th  Sept.  Before  1  go  out  this  morning,  Mr.  McGregor,  who 
is  to  dine  with  me  to-day,  calls.  While  he  is  there,  Mr.  Senior 
(who  is  engaged,  and  can't  come)  comes  in.  We  reason  high 
of  war,  peace,  Louis  Philippe,  and  La  Fayette,  Leopold  and  the 
Dutch,  etc.,  etc.  These  are  both  very  intelligent  men.  After 
they  are  gone,  I  get  into  my  carriage  and  go  to  the  race,  tempted 
by  the  genial  and  fine  day.  Get  to  the  course  just  in  time  to 
see  two  infamous  matches,  in  one  of  which,  one  of  the  two 
beasts  bolts,  and,  in  the  other,  the  winner  comes  in  on  an  easy 
trot,  having  double-distanced  Lord  William  Paget's  poor  little 
pony,  his  only  competitor.  Not  a  great  monde  there,  but  the 
king  and  queen  were.     After  my  return,  take  a  walk.     Miss 


100  DIARY  OF  BRUSSELS. 

Freke,  who  is  passing  in. her  carriage,  stops  and  talks  with  me 
about  our  meeting  at  Paris.  At  dinner  we  are  only  seven,  every- 
body being  engaged.  Conversation  very  animated.  Mr.  JNor- 
tliey  and  Mr.  Patterson  remain  with  me  until  half-past  11,  dis- 
cussing the  Belgian  revolution,  in  which  Mr.  Patterson  has, 
|>erhaps,  too  much  faith,  and  Mr.  Northey  too  little.  The  latter 
speaks  of  the  Prince  of  Orange  as  a  personal  friend  ;  and  says 
there  is  no  doubt  but  the  charge,  recently  made  in  the  Indepen- 
dant,  of  missionaries  from  the  Orange  party  to  London  and  the 
Northern  capitals,  is  well-founded  ;  that,  from  his  privy  relations 
with  that  party,  he  could  have  told  'em  so  long  ago.  I  don't 
commit  myself  further  than  by  saying  that,  be  the  sentiments 
of  the  people  what  they  may,  their  apathy  in  political  matters 
exceeds  all  belief,  and  must  never  be  left  out  of  any  estimate  of 
political  chances  ;  for  a  people,  without  individuality  and  a  lively 
sensibility  to  their  rights  and  duties,  is  a  herd  to  be  led  or 
driven  by  a  few.  At  half-past  11,  I  am  pretty  weary,  and  go 
out,  it  being  a  lovely  moonlight,  en  voitnre,  to  the  Boulevard  du 
Jardin  Botanique. 

1st  October.  Horrible  fog  and  damp  weather,  inclining  to 
rain.  Call  up  my  servants  and  tell  them  they  must  be  making 
preparations  against  my  departure  in  ten  or  twelve  days.  They 
seem  all  au  desespoir,  for  winter  is  at  hand,  and  places  hard  to 
be  found.  Coachman  shows  me  signs  of  use  and  weakness  in 
my  carriage ;  at  the  which,  being  very  much  enraged,  I  write  to 
Jones,  telling  him  to  look  to  his  bond.  Go  to  my  banker's  and 
deposit  a  draft  for  1520  francs.  Do  nothing  but  fidget  and  fret 
all  day  long.  In  the  evening,  to  a  soiree  at  Lady  Wale's,  (a  new 
comer,  who  shews  violent  symptoms  of  fashionable  propensi- 
ties,) where  I  meet  most  of  the  English  habitues,  and  some  1 
don't  know.  Shortly  after  I  am  there,  Mr.  Northey  fixes  me  to 
a  whist  table,  where,  in  sad  civility,  I  sit  and  play  four  mortal 
rubbers,  all  which  I  lose.  I  then  exchange  a  few  kind  words 
with  mafolie,  and  make  my  escape. 

2d  Oct.  Go  out  and  call  on  Mr.  Senior,  who  is  going  to- 
morrow to  England.  Promises  to  let  me  hear  from  him.  Take 
a  walk.  Fall  in  with  Mrs.  Seymour,  and,  on  the  Boulevard, 
afterwards,  with  Mr.  S.  and  Emma, — walk  till  5.  Dine  alone, 
at  6.  In  the  evening,  go  to  Latour  Maubourg's  \nst  soiree.  Few 
people  there, — the  Morgans.  Lady  M.  gets  me  to  sit  down  by 
her,  and  begins  to  talk  about  the  provincial  tone  of  Belgian 
society  here.  Tells  me  she  meets  me  no  where  but  in  the 
grand  monde.  1  am  soon  off,  and  speak  to  my  little  Preke, — 
then  to  Sir  Charles  Morgan, — then  some  songs  prettily  sung  by 
their  nieces, — then  home. 


NOTE  BY  THE  PUBLISHERS. 

The  Publishers  deem  it  due  to  Mr.  Legare  to  say  that  they 
are  satisfied,  from  both  internal  and  external  evidence,  that 
he  never  intended  this  Diary  for  publication,  but  only  as  a 
collection  of  private  memoranda  for  himself,  and,  perhaps,  his 
friends.  He  may,  also,  have  intended  it  as  a  note-book  in  aid 
of  some  future  publication,  as  he  was  frequently  heard  by  his 
friends  to  say  (in  reference  to  his  diplomatic  residence  abroad) 
that  he  had  materials  for  a  volume.  It  is  also  proper  to  add  that 
the  difficulty  of  deciphering  the  manuscript  may  have  led  to 
several  errors  in  the  text. 


JOURNAL  OF  THE  RHINE. 

Antwerp,  6th  May,  1835. 

Having  suffered  a  great  deal,  for  some  months  past,  from 
disordered  health,  and,  particularly,  been  confined  almost  con- 
tinually to  my  house  during  the  last  month,  I  determined,  as 
soon  as  my  convalescence  were  sufficiently  advanced  to  permit 
it,  to  set  out  on  a  tour  of  some  weeks.  It  was,  at  first,  my 
intention  to  proceed  immediately  towards  the  Rhine,  through 
Liege  and  Aix-la-Chapelle  ;  my  principal  object  in  that  excur- 
sion (beside  the  re-establishment  of  my  health)  being  to  visit  Bonn 
and  its  University,  and  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  Augustus 
William  Schlegel.  This  latter  purpose  I  had  a  favorable  oppor- 
tunity of  accomplishing,  through  my  acquaintance  with  the 
Marchese  Arconati  and  his  wife,  who  are  at  present  there,  with 
their  only  son,  an  eleve  of  Schlegel's  and  the  University.  But 
the  weather  continued  (and  continues)  so  unseasonably  cold, 
that  I  determined  to  begin  with  Antwerp,  which  I  have  always 
considered  as  by  far  the  most  interesting  spot  in  the  Low  Conn- 
tries.  So,  having  sent  for  post-horses,  and  having  them  put  to 
my  landaulette,  I  set  off  from  my  house  in  Brussels,  Rue  des 
Sablons,  No.  9,  at  noon,  on  the  second  of  May,  and  arrived  at 
half-past  5,  at  the  Hotel  of  the  Grand  Laboureur,  at  Antwerp, 
where  I  am  now  writing  this. 

The  day  after  my  arrival  was  Sunday,  and  a  Te  Deum  was 
to  be  celebrated  at  the  cathedral,  on  occasion  of  the  birth  of  the 
second  Crown  Prince  of  Belgium.  Magnae  spes  altera  Romce  ! 
Without  being  aware  of  this  circumstance,  I  had  made  up  my 
mind  to  consecrate  the  day  to  that  noble  monument  of  the  gran- 
deur of  Catholic  Europe.  Accordingly,  immediately  after  break- 
fast, I  sallied  forth  all  alone,  (for  I  came  hither  without  even  a 
servant,)  and,  at  12  o'clock,  assisted  at  the  extraordinary  religious 
service  of  the  day,  whose  character  I  soon  divined  from  seeing 
the  governor  of  the  province  and  other  authorities,  both  civil 
and  military,  in  the  choir,  and  a  double  hedge  of  soldiers  along 
the  whole  length  of  the  chief  aisle.  The  effect  of  the  fine  music, 
heightened  by  that  of  the  vast  and  magnificent  edifice,  in  whose 
mighty  spaces  it  was  floating  loose  about  like  some  aerial  spirit, 
and  of  those  famous  master-pieces  of  Rubens  (the  Descent  and 
Elevation  of  the  Cross  in  the  transverse  aisle,  and  the  Assump- 
tion of  the  Virgin  on  the  high  altar),  before  which  I  stood,  was 


104  JOURNAL  OP  THE  RHINE. 

such  as  recalled  the  past, — the  deep  emotions  of  youth  and  yet 
unslaked  curiosity,  which  I  once  experienced  (alas !  sixteen 
mortal  years  ago)  most  intensely  on  this  very  spot. 

After  gazing  upon  those  pictures  and  the  cathedral  for  a  long 
time  after  every  body,  but  a  few  straggling  votaries  of  saints 
about  their  images,  or  penitents  in  the  confessionals,  had  left  it  a 
vast  solitude,  I  betook  me  to  another  object  of  profound  interest 
to  me,  not  only  because  it  is  so  grand  in  itself,  but  also  because 
it  has  been  before  my  eyes  and  in  my  ears  from  my  earliest 
childhood,  and,  with  occasional  absences,  as  of  late,  continually 
since, — the  sea  and  its  tributary  waters.  Long  and  rapturously 
did  I  saunter  about,  in  deep  musing,  upon  the  noble  quays  look- 
ing towards  that  vast  opening,  through  which  the  Scheldt  bears 
his  here  mighty  flood  to  the  ocean  in  which  it  is  to  be  mingled 
with  that  of  our  still  mightier  streams,  and  dreaming  that  I 
could  feel  the  influence  of  the  soft  pure  air  that  breathes  from 
the  face  of  the  great  deep,  and  hear  the  mysterious  voice  that 
has  always  spoken  to  my  heart  from  its  ever  restless  and  unfa- 
thomable waters,  and  seems  now  to  speak  of  my  home. 

At  Jive  o'clock,  the  hour  of  the  Salut,  I  returned  to  the  cathe- 
dral to  hear  the  music  of  that  sweet  office,  and  nurse  within  my 
bosom  the  deep  religious  poetry  that  had  possessed  it  for  some 
hours.  It  was  at  that  service  thai,  in  the  month  of  August,  in 
the  year  1819,  then  just  turned  of  twenty-two,  I  for  theirs/ 
time  experienced  the  sublime  and  touching  character  of  the 
Catholic  ritual.  Never  have  I  forgotten  the  impression  made 
upon  me  by  the  strains  I  then  listened  to, — strains  of  a  melody 
as  soft  and  celestial  as  the  light  of  the  evening,  with  which  they 
seemed  to  me  to  be  mingling,  to  express  the  gratitude  and  the 
love  of  universal  nature  for  its  great  Protector,  at  that  most 
touching  moment  of  transition  from  the  serenity  of  the  bright 
departing  day  to  the  repose  and  the  stillness  of  the  approaching 
night,  in  which  man  was  to  abandon  himself  once  more,  in 
weariness  and  helplessness  and  darkness,  to  the  merciful  care  of 
heaven.  After  the  Salut  I  returned  to  my  hotel,  where  I  dined 
alone,  and  received,  in  the  evening,  a  visit  from  my  most  re- 
spected countryman,  our  consul,  Mr.  Patterson  of  New- York. 

On  Monday,  the  4th  May,  I  visited,  after  breakfast,  the  cele- 
brated ship-dock,  as  well  as  the  fortification  thrown  up  at  its 
mouth,  to  defend  it  against  an  enemy's  fleet.  This  latter  com- 
pletely commands  the  approach  to  the  town  up  the  Scheldt,  and 
is  a  most  formidable  battery.  This  dock,  although  I  had  been 
so  often  at  Antwerp,  I  had  never  visited  before.  It  is  an  impe- 
rial work.  Near  it  stands  an  immense  building,  on  whose 
facade  is  the  inscription,  "DomusHansae  Teutonics,  15  or  16 — ." 
After  this  stroll,  I  called  on  Mr.  Patterson,  and,  having  appointed 
3  o'clock  for  a  visit  to  Wapper's   great   unfinished  historical 


JOURNAL  OF  THE  RHINE.  105 

piece, — the  tearing  up  the  Prince  Frederick  of  Orange's  procla- 
mation in  the  Grande  Place  at  Brussels,  on  the  second  of  the 
four  days  of  Sept.,  1830, — I  returned  to  my  lodgings  to  repose 
a  little.  At  the  hour  appointed  we  call  at  Mr.  Wapper's  house, 
and  get  a  card  of  admittance  to  his  atelier  in  the  Temple.  This 
curious  old  building  is  the  home  and  fortress  of  the  Knights 
Templars  in  this  venerable  city,  and  is  built  in  the  style  of  those 
times,  with  towers  at  the  corners,  etc.  By  a  steep,  narrow, 
winding  stone  stair-case,  without  any  thing  to  hold  on  by  to 
help  the  ascent,  we  mounted  up  in  darkness  to  Wapper's  apart- 
ment, where  we  saw  three  eleves  studying  and  copying,  and  two 
pictures,  one  already  exhibited  at  Brussels  (the  Burgomaster  of 
Leyden  refusing  the  supplications  of  the  starving  people,  that 
he  should  give  up  the  town),  and  the  new  piece.  It  is  (this 
latter)  very  far  from  being  finished,  and  I  am  not  connoisseur 
enough  to  predict  what  will  be  its  efTect  when  completed.  The 
subject  seems  to  me  well  chosen  for  a  great  national  painting, 
to  be  hung  up  in  the  Palais  de  la  Nation,  and  well  treated.  The 
wife,  the  father,  the  sister,  bending  over  a  wounded  youth, 
brought  in  from  the  combat,  and  exposed  to  the  view  of  his 
infuriated  fellow-citizens,  made  still  more  furious  by  the  sight 
of  their  young  and  bleeding  martyr, — the  tumult  of  the  press 
about  this  group, — the  crowd  above  it,  tearing  to  pieces  the  last 
mandate  of  their  late  masters,  and  scattering  it  in  fiery  derision 
and  defiance  to  the  winds, — here  are  certainly  materials  for  a 
great  work.  I  shall  be  curious  to  see  it  finished.  The  wife  is 
a  true  Bruxelloise, — with  fair  hair  and  soft  features,  stamped 
with  the  deepest  grief ;  the  father's  tears  are  scarcely  suppressed 
while  he  appeals  to  his  countrymen  for  vengeance ;  but  the  sis- 
ter is  still  marvellously  indifferent,  in  my  opinion,  and  if  she  is 
intended  to  represent  a  silent,  statue-like  sorrow,  great  changes 
will  have  to  be  made  in  her  face. 

I  dined  with  Mr.  Patterson  and  spent  the  evening  with  him, 
and  find  myself  better  than  I  have  been  for  eighteen  months 
past ;  a  divine  sensation,  which  none  that  have  not  suffered 
long  under  ill  health  know  how  to  appreciate,  and,  still  less,  to 
be  thankful  for. 

Tuesday,  5th  May.  This  is  a  great  day  at  Brussels,  and  for 
all  Belgium,  especially  Antwerp, — the  rail-road,  intended  to 
connect  the  Scheldt  with  the  Rhine,  and  now  finished  from 
Malines  to  Brussels,  is  to  be  opened  with  great  solemnity.  Many 
people  are  gone  and  going  hence  to  assist  at  the  spectacle. 

After  a  walk  upon  the  Boulevard  for  exercise,  to  help  my 

health,  which  I  find  every  moment  better  and  better,  I  call  at 

Mr.  Patterson's  to  go  with  him  to  the  Museum,  which  contains 

a  splendid  collection  of  Rubens',  Vandykes,  etc.,  etc.     There  are 

Vol.  i. — 14 


106  JOURNAL  OF  THE  RHINE. 

three,  among  the  former,  that  are  quite  remarkable  even  among 
master- pieces, — the  "Breaking  of  the  Legs,"  the  "Adoration  of 
the  Magi,"  and  the  original,  in  miniature,  from  which  the  great 
artist  painted  the  "Descent  of  the  Cross",  in  the  cathedral.  This 
last  is  the  most  delicious  piece  (of  colouring,  especially)  I  ever 
saw.  If  an  angel  had  laid  on  the  colours,  or  drawn  the  shapes, 
they  could  not  have  been  brighter  or  more  exquisite.  Two  of 
the  Marys  at  the  foot  of  the  cross,  with  their  golden  locks  and 
soft,  silken  drapery,  are  perfectly  celestial.  The  picture,  though 
in  other  respects  an  exact  copy  of  the  great  painting  in  the 
cathedral,  seems  to  me,  if  possible,  superior  to  it.  I  have  no 
idea  that  the  art  can  go  beyond  this  vision  of  beauty  in  delicacy 
or  vividness  of  tints.  I  gazed  at  it  again,  as  I  had  done  former- 
ly, with  devouring  eyes,  and  regretted  that  I  was  ever  to  leave 
it.  I  remember  I  thought,  when  I  first  saw  it,  that,  if  any  thing 
could  tempt  me  to  commit  theft,  it  would  be  this  little  gem. 
The  breaking  of  the  legs  of  the  thieves  crucified  with  the  Sa- 
viour is  of  frightful  power.  One  of  them,  in  his  terror  at  the 
approaching  blow,  has  torn  one  of  his  feet  loose  from  the  nail 
with  which  it  had  been  fastened  to  the  cross,  and  the  contortions 
of  his  body  in  its  agony,  as  well  as  the  hyena  grin  upon  his 
face,  while  the  blood  is  trickling  from  his  perforated  instep, 
make  you  almost  imagine  the  wretch  howling  in  anguish  and 
despair  before  your  eyes.  The  Adoration  of  the  Magi  seems  to 
me  a  less  remarkable,  tho'  very  fine  painting.  But  Vandyke, — 
not  the  peerless  portrait  painter,  though  there  are  here  several 
works  of  his  in  that  kind  that  cannot  be  too  highly  praised — 
but  the  rival  of  Rubens  in  historical  painting, — what  shall  I  say 
of  his  two  lovely  "Ohrists  upon  the  Cross",  which  adorn  this 
Museum.  One  of  them  is  in  miniature.  The  other  is  all  that 
it  should  be, — except  the  cursed  little  Cupid  at  the  foot  of  the 
cross,  so  utterly  out  of  place.  But  the  Redeemer  himself,  as  he 
sleeps  in  deep,  majestic  repose  upon  that  instrument  of  igno- 
minious punishment,  henceforth  the  symbol  of  universal  triumph 
and  immortal  hopes, — one  feels  that  it  is  the  crucifixion  of  a 
God !  Then  the  mater  dolorosa,  pale,  fainting,  almost  dead 
with  grief,  as  she  supports  herself  upon  the  fatal  tree,  and  em- 
braces His  feet.  Yet,  how  gentle  a  form  of  womanhood  in  its 
devotedness, — how  graceful  and  beautiful  in  her  world-forgetting 
wo.  The  outstretched  arms  of  the  only  other  person  in  the 
piece, — the  noble  air  and  attitude  as  of  prophetic  inspiration  ad- 
dressing its  prayers,  not  unmixed  with  imprecations,  to  the  om- 
nipotent sufferer.  Then  the  heavens  veiled  in  darkness  and  the 
troubled  sky.  I  felt,  more  than  ever,  that  Vandyke  is  the  So- 
phocles of  painters,  and  bears  the  same  relation  to  Rubens  as 
that  pure  Attic  artist  to  the  gigantic,  though  rude,  author  of  the 
Prometheus  and  the  Agamemnon. 


JOURNAL  OP  THE  RHINE.  107 

I  say  nothing  of  the  numerous  other  paintings  that  adorn  the 
walls  of  this  interesting  Museum, — except  to  remark,  that  a 
Titian, — a  genuine  Titian  which  it  contains, — certainly  shows 
to  disadvantage,  in  point  of  colouring,  by  the  side  of  the  Rubens' 
I  have  mentioned. 

Wednesday,  6th  May.  It  being  rainy,  uncomfortable  wea- 
ther, I  do  not  go  out  to-day,  but  amuse  myself  with  writing 
these  hasty  notes  to  send  to  my  mother  and  sister.  Continue 
well.     Dine  with  Mr.  P. 

Thursday,  7th  May.  After  reading  an  hour  in  bed,  (my 
German  grammar,)  I  rise  at  a  quarter  before  8.  Then  my  toi- 
lette, shaving,  etc.,  consumes,  as  usual,  another  hour.  At  9,  I 
go  out  to  take  a  walk.  Enter  the  cathedral  in  passing, — no 
service  in  the  Choeur,  and  only  some  side-bar  devotions  to  some 
one  of  the  Catholic  saints.  Return  to  my  lodgings  at  10,  and 
breakfast.  Amuse  myself  with  reading  Tombleson's  Rhine 
Ufer, — a  topographical  and  historical  account  of  all  that  inter- 
ests a  traveller  on  the  storied  Rhine.  As  I  propose  going  imme- 
diately hence  to  Cologne  and  Bonn,  I  find  in  this  book  at  once 
an  incentive  and  a  preparation. 

Friday,  Sth  May.  Visit  once  more  the  church  of  St.  James. 
Another  "Christ  upon  the  Cross"  by  Vandyke — in  miniature.  A 
beautiful  picture  :  in  very  much  the  same  style  as  the  two  al- 
ready mentioned.  Mr.  Patterson  pronounces  it  the  J)est  of  all 
the  works  of  his  favorite  artist ;  but,  like  Rubens',  Vandyke's 
master-pieces  are  all  best. 

This  church  is  wonderfully  rich  in  fine  marbles,  curiously 
and  richly  carved  wooden  images,  etc.,  statues,  (one  of  the  Fla- 
gellation particularly  remarkable) — in  short,  I  do  not  believe 
there  is  any  thing  at  all,  on  this  side  the  Alps,  to  be  compared 
with  it  in  this  respect.  The  eye  of  the  visiter  is  dazzled  and 
perplexed  by  the  variety  and  richness  of  the  innumerable  works 
oi  art,  which  give  so  much  gorgeousness  to  the  whole  interior 
of  the  building.  I  did  not  see,  this  time,  because  I  had  often 
seen  before,  the  famous  picture  over  the  tomb  of  Rubens,  behind 
the  high  altar,  in  which  he  is  represented  in  the  midst  of  his 
three  wives,  with  his  child,  etc. 

Walk,  in  the  evening,  two  hours  on  the  wharf. 

Saturday,  9th  May.  Do  nothing,  to-day,  but  walk  about  the 
ramparts  and  read  newspapers.  See  that  Mr.  Livingston  has 
embarked,  on  board  the  Constitution,  for  the  United  States. 
Pine,  for  the  last  time  during  this  visit,  at  Mr.  Patterson's. 


108  JOURNAL  OP  THE  RHINE. 

Sunday,  IQth  May.  Go  out,  at  8,  to  the  cathedral.  Look  at 
the  Descent  and  the  Elevation.  No  service  going  on.  Proceed 
to  the  wharves,  where  I  walk  about  half  an  hour,  and  return  to 
the  cathedral.  This  time  see  the  church  full,  and  take  my 
stand  under  the  organ,  and  immediately  as  you  enter  the  church 
by  the  principal  door,  so  that  I  have  a  view  of  the  picture  of  the 
"Assumption"'  over  the  high  altar,  at  the  distance  of  many  hun- 
dred feet,  the  whole  length  of  the  quire  and  nave.  The  priest, 
going  through  some  silent  devotions,  "shows  scarce  so  gross  as 
a  beetle."  His  form  is  absolutely  lost  in  the  immensity  around 
him. 

Cologne,  21st  May,  1835. 

I  arrived  in  this  venerable  old  city,  this  evening,  at  a  quarter 
past  7  o'clock,  in  a  sort  of  hack,  of  which  great  use  is  made  in 
these  parts,  (for  I  met  I  know  not  how  many  on  the  road,)  and 
which  I  hired  at  Aix  la  Chapelle  for  four  rix  thalers  (15f). 

My  return  to  Brussels  from  Antwerp,  on  Sunday  evening,  10th 
inst.,  was  extremely  opportune.  I  found  a  dispatch  from  the 
government  waiting  my  arrival  and  demanding  my  immediate 
attention.  Besides  this  paper,  which  came  to  me  through  the 
Legation  at  London,  there  were,  within  the  nine  days  I  passed 
at  Brussels,  no  less  than  three  different  packets  arrived  at  Havre, 
by  which,  after  a  long  interval,  I  received  letters  from  America, 
and  lots  of  newspapers.  I  stayed  much  longer  at  Brussels  than 
was  my  intention  on  returning  to  it,  for  I  purposed  proceeding 
immediately  to  Aix  la  Chapelle  and  the  Rhine.  But  I  had  pub- 
lic business  to  occupy  me,  and  it  was  not  until  I  had  written 
and  received  several  letters  to  and  from  Mr.  Patterson,  and  sent 
two  dispatches  to  the  department,  that  I  felt  myself  once  more  at 
liberty  to  go,  for  a  few  weeks,  in  quest  of  health.  Helas  !  I 
stood  in  need  of  continuing  rnes  courses.  I  thought  myself 
quite  restored  at  Antwerp,  but,  in  travelling  to  Brussels,  as  the 
weather  was  particularly  bright  and  genial,  I  left  the  inside  of 
my  carriage  and  took  my  seat  upon  the  coachman's  place.  It 
was  all  very  well  for  some  time  ;  but,  towards  evening,  I  found 
the  wind  cold,  and  descended  quite  chilled  from  my  exposed 
elevation.  The  next  day  I  felt  a  slight  sore  throat,  which  con- 
tinuing, I  rather  inconsiderately  took  a  severe  dose,  or  rather 
doses,  of  medicine.  What  with  the  remedy,  and  what  with  the 
disease,  I  was  very  much  pulled  down  in  a  few  days  ;  relapsed 
into  my  old  dejection  and  blue  devils,  and  felt  that,  a  tout  prix, 
I  must  change  the  air. 

By  way  of  having  nothing  to  think  of,  and  getting  over  the 
ground  as  rapidly  as  I  chose,  I  determined  to  leave  my  own  car- 
riage at  home  in  Brussels,  and  to  take  my  place  for  Liege  in  the 
coupe  of  a  diligence.     I  left  town,  accordingly,  on  Tuesday, 


JOURNAL  OF  THE  RHINE.  109 

19th  May,  at  half-past  7  o'clock,  in  company  with  an  officer  of 
some  sort  or  other,  (judging,  at  least,  from  his  pantaloons,)  and 
an  ancient  lady,  who  kept  profoundly  silent  until  we  arrived  at 
Liege,  when,  on  the  brow  of  the  steep  hill  that  overlooks  the 
town,  she  said  to  me,  with  a  strong  Anglo-Saxon  accent,  "c'est 
un  montagne  bien  perpendicular."  I  had  no  idea,  from  her 
looks,  that  she  was  English.  The  officer  was  a  Belgian  or  Ger- 
man, from  his  accent, — an  intelligent  man,  about  fifty-five  or 
sixty,  with  whom  I  spoke  about  the  times  and  revolutions.  He 
seemed  (like  many  other  people  of  the  better  sort  in  this  coun- 
try) to  regard  France  and  Frenchmen  with  horror.  Speaking 
of  their  first  revolution,  he  said  history  told  of  no  such  atroci- 
ties,— and  it  was  easily  explained, — it  was  an  impious  revolu- 
tion; the  whole  nation  continues  to  this  day  profondement  cor- 
rom,pue.  Of  the  Belgian  revolution  he  said  the  people,  without 
leaders,  made  it ;  and  then  some  adventurers  set  themselves  up, 
for  a  moment,  to  be  its  apparent  authors.  There  was  only  one 
thing  the  Belgians  thought  worse  than  a  re-union  to  France, — a 
restoration  of  the  Nassaus.  Bonaparte  always  played  his  va-tout, 
and  must,  sooner  or  later,  have  lost  all.  Speaking  of  Poland, 
he  said  its  revolution  was  sui  generis,  and  Europe  would  have 
to  suffer  yet  for  that  inexpiable  partition  !  This  agreeable  man 
left  me  at  St.  Trond.  I  did  not  arrive  at  Liege  until  8  o'clock, 
having  been  a  period  of  twelve  hours  travelling  these  twenty 
leagues.  Fatigued  to  death,  my  bones  all  aching,  I  crawled 
along  after  a  commissionaire  with  my  portmanteau,  to  the  Hotel 
de  Pavilion  Anglais,  and  having  swallowed  two  cups  of  tea  as 
soon  as  I  could  make  them,  went  to  bed  at  half-past  9  o'clock. 
But  hush  !  what  voice,  sweeter  than  that  of  a  nightingale,  is,  in 
broken,  interrupted  notes,  beguiling  the  solitude  of  some  fair 
creature  in  the  neighboring  chamber.  It  is,  I  learn,  that  of 
Madame  S ,  my  neighbor  at  Brussels;  the  loveliest  wo- 
man, to  my  taste,  I  have  seen  this  many  a  day,  and  whose  de- 
lightful, ravishing  countenance  struck  me  and  haunted  me,  like 
a  vision  of  something  unearthly,  the  first  time  I  saw  her.  Ah  ! 
said  old  Madame  de  Baillet  Latour,  on  hearing  me  express  my 
raptures,  you  perceive  she  is  in  bad  health  and  fanee  ;  but  en 
verite,  etant  demoiselle,  elle  etait  jolie  a  faire  tourner  la  tete. 
With  such  a  lullaby,  and  a  body  wearied  and  worn  down,  I  fell 
asleep,  and  never  woke  until  6  o'clock  next  morning. 

Breakfast,  etc.,  being  over,  on  the  20th,  at  half- past  9,  I  go 
down  to  the  diligence  office  where  I  had  taken  my  seat,  and,  to 
my  inexpressible  horror,  encounter  there  the  same  old  Anglo- 
Saxon  dame  whose  silence  had  annoyed  me  so  the  day  before. 
I  was  tempted  to  ask  her,  on  the  spot,  if  her  intention  were  to 
extend  her  peregrinations  beyond  Aix  ;  for,  if  such  were  the 
case,  my  plans  should  without  hesitation  be  altered,  so  as  to 


110  JOURNAL  OP  THE  RHINE. 

avoid  a  third  meeting  of  the  sort.  However,  I  imitated  her  si- 
lence,— mounted  after  her  into  the  coupe, — and,  after  receiving 
our  complement,  a  stout  German,  fresh  from  London,  we  were 
off  at  10  for  the  city  of  Charlemagne.  The  weather  was  de- 
lightful, though,  on  getting  out  to  walk  up  the  high  ascent 
opposite  to  Liege,  I  found  the  sun  rather  too  warm,  and  was 
glad  to  raise  my  umbrella.  The  journey  was  not  long, — a  dou- 
ble delay  for  examination  of  passports  on  the  frontier,  especially 
on  the  Prussian  side,  included,  we  arrived  at  Aix  la  Chapelle 
before  5  o'clock.  We  all  went  to  the  Hotel  de  Viile  immediately 
and  got  back  our  passports,  which  are  examined  here  with  ex- 
treme strictness.  I  then  proceeded  to  the  Hotel  de  l'Aigle  Noire, 
and,  after  ordering  dinner  for  6  o'clock,  went  out  to  see  about 
getting  on  the  next  day,  and  cast  a  glance  en  passant  over  the 
town,  which  I  find  wonderfully  changed  since  auld  lang  syne 
(1819),  especially  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  great  fountain  and 
the  new  theatre.  Taste  the  water,  and  don't  find  it  by  any 
means  so  nauseous  as  I  expected.  Sir  Charles  Wales  told  me, 
last  year,  having  heard  it  was  good  for  the  gout,  he  intended  to 
drink  it,  but,  after  the  first  attempt,  he  had  posed  himself  with 
the  question,  whether  it  were  not  better  to  bear  the  gout  than  to 
take  such  a  diabolical  medicine.  I  was  prepared  for  a  potion 
which  could  have  increased  the  torments  of  Dives, — but  really 
think  that,  considering  its  "sulphurous  and  damned"  character, 
it  is  very  far  from  disagreeable.  The  Hotel  de  l'Aigle  Noire  is 
kept  by  a  French-woman,  and  on  y  est  tres  bien  et  surtout  a 
tres  bien  compte.  For  a  very  good  dinner,  with  a  bottle  of 
Seltzer  water,  bed  and  breakfast  with  mutton  chops,  they  charged 
only  6f.50. 

I  rose  early  the  next  morning  and  visited  the  great  fountain 
near  the  theatre,  where  I  drank  a  glass  of  the  medicinal  liquid 
and  then  walked  up  to  the  cathedral,  which  I  found  very  much 
as  I  remembered  it  of  old.  As  I  hate  descriptions,  and  have 
never  read  Vitmoin's,  I  shall  say  nothing  of  the  circular  dome, 
beneath  which  lies,  on  the  floor  of  the  church,  a  simple  slab, 
bearing  the  inscription — Carolo  Magno.  After  looking  round 
me  for  a  few  moments,  and  especially  listening  to  a  mass  sung 
by  children  who  step  in  here  (says  my  guide)  on  their  way  to 
school,  I  returned  to  the  spring,  and  was  about  to  descend  by 
the  first  staircase  I  came  to,  on  my  left,  not  observing  that  people 
went  down  the  other  way  and  came  up  this.  But  if  I  was  un- 
observing,  I  was  not  unobserved.  A  little  blue-eyed  urchin, 
about  three  feet  high  and  nine  or  ten  years  old,  begirt  with  a 
Lilliputian  sabre  and  dressed  in  a  Prussian  uniform,  was  posted 
there  to  warn  off  the  unwary  visiter  that  should  be  about  to  vio- 
late a  rule  of  police,  in  a  country  where,  as  one  sees  at  the  first 
glance,  every  thing  is  rule  and  the  police  is  every  thing.     This 


JOURNAL  OF  THE  RHINE.  Ill 

Tom  Thumb  flies  upon  me, — shrieking  out  in  German,  as  he 
fastens  his  little  claws  in  my  frock-coat,  "you  can't  go  down 
this  way, — go  the  other."  I  could  not  help  smiling  with  com- 
placency at  this  display  of  diminutive  vehemence ;  and  was 
immediately  accosted  by  an  agent  of  the  police,  of  riper  years, 
who  apologised  for  the  intemperate  zeal  of  his  little  comrade, 
and  showed  me  the  way  I  ought  to  go.  After  drinking  another 
glass  of  the  running  sulphur,  I  repaired  to  the  Black  Eagle  and 
eat  my  breakfast. 

At  half-past  8,  I  got  into  the  vehicle  I  had  not  hired  the  day 
before.  The  one  1  chose  was  a  very  nice  caleche,  drawn  by 
two  very  respectable  quadrupeds.  This,  on  the  contrary,  was 
an  ugly,  shabby  little  machine,  driven  not  by  the  man  himself, 
but  a  servant  or  agent  or  partner  of  his,  (contrary  to  his  express 
promise,)  and  tied  to  the  tails  of  two  beasts,  whose  great  expe- 
rience in  the  journey  between  Aix  la  Chapelle  and  Coin,  was 
but  too  visibly  impressed  upon  their  whole  exterior.  Yet  they 
did  much  more  than  they  promised.  The  distance  is  nine  Ger- 
man miles,  (about  forty-five  English).  I  was  at  the  Cour  Royale 
at  Cologne,  at  a  quarter  past  7,  having  stopped  repeatedly  en 
route  to  refresh  the  cattle,  and  once  to  refresh  myself, — having 
dined  at  Bergham  at  3-4  o'clock,  where  I  had  the  honor  to  sit 
down  with  a  party  from  Aix  to  Coin,  consisting  of  a  tavern- 
keeper  and  his  wife  and  companion  of  that  ilk.  The  woman 
had  very  pretty  round  eyes,  looking  like  many  I  had  seen  before, 
and  addressed  me  sometimes  in  French,  hardened  by  her  strong 
German  accent.  One  of  the  compliments  she  made  me  was  to 
request,  in  case  I  re-passed  by  Aix,  to  bear  in  mind  that  they 
kept,  ma  foil  I  forget  what  house  there, — but  a  wonderfully 
pleasant  one  it  was,  by  their  accounts  of  it.  Among  other  cu- 
riosities, they  have  to  show  there  many  crutches  left  behind, 
abandoned  to  the  first  comer's  fate,  by  ungrateful  cripples  restor- 
ed by  the  healing  sulphur. 

Bonn,  May  23. 

Arrived,  at  a  quarter  past  7,  at  the  old  Hotel  de  la  Cour  Impe- 
riale.  I  found  it,  like  the  Black  Eagle,  all  topsy-turvy, — under- 
going repairs,  painting,  etc.,  for  the  approaching  "campaign  on 
the  Rhine,"  when  England  opens  her  golden  sluices  to  enrich 
all  Europe  with  the  droppings  of  her  economy  in  travelling— 
(for  that  is,  now-a-days,  the  most  general  motive,)  and,  for  them, 
it  is  economy  to  be  any  where  out  of  the  sphere  of  ruinous 
London  vanity  and  ostentation.  Two  years  ago,  Lord  Francis 
Levison  Gower,  now  Lord  F.  Egerton,  was — as  Prince  Auguste 
d'Arenberg,  who  was  intimate  with  Lady  Charlotte  Greville,  his 
mother-in-law,  told  me — travelling  on  the  Continent  like  a  king, 
because,  having  only  £10,000  a  year,  he  could  not  afford  to  live 


112  JOURNAL  OP  THE  RHINE. 

in  London  !  Notwithstanding  the  prematurity  of  my  tour,  I 
found  the  apartment,  next  to  the  one  into  which  I  was  shown, 
occupied  by  an  English  family.  Mine  was  a  rather  gaudily 
furnished  room,  with  high  ceilings,  and  better  fitted  for  a  salon 
than  a  bed-room.  But  vain  pomp,  etc.,  I  hate  ye,  when  my 
bones  are  broken  and  the  exhausted  body,  absolute  master,  thro' 
its  very  weakness,  of  its  etherial  companion,  clamors  for  repose. 
I  called  for  tea,  which  was  served  in  a  silver  pot,  etc.,  and  really 
was  very  good.  I  made  it  too  strong  though,  and  hence,  in 
part,  perhaps,  the  dismal  sequel.  At  half-past  10, 1  went  to  bed  : 
the  first  thing  I  look  to  in  a  bed  is  the  pillow  and  bolster, — in 
short,  the  treatment  which  the  head  is  to  undergo  during  the 
sleep  that  one  has  a  right  to  count  on.  It  was  all  wrong  :  the 
only  pillow  with  a  case  was  too  soft,  and  sank  down  to  nothing 
under  the  heavy  occiput.  I  called  for  another  :  it  was  a  stout 
one,  and  with  that  (there  were  then  three  and  a  bolster)  I  was 
mounted  up  too  high,  and  should  either  fall  from  it  in  my  rest- 
lessness, or  have  my  neck  broken  by  the  perpendicular  posture. 
Another  defect,  for  a  sore  body,  was  the  impenetrable  hardness 
of  the  upper  mattrass.  However,  I  expected  my  fatigue  to  carry 
me  through  them  all  without  a  moment's  sleeplessness.  It  was 
not  so.  At  half-past  12,  I  wake,  heated,  uneasy,  with  a  feeling 
such  as  I  suppose  precedes  apoplexy, — except  that,  having  lived 
very  low  for  the  last  four  days,  and  taken  so  much  exercise,  it 
seemed  impossible.  But  I  had  left  Brussels  before  I  was  rid  of 
my  sore  throat  and  the  accompanying  irritation  of  the  blood, 
which  had  been  greatly  increased  by  the  fatigues  of  the  journey 
and  an  obstinate  costiveness  ;  and  hence,  my  present  uncomfort- 
able situation  had  produced  the  effect  I  experienced.  I  imme- 
diately rose, — swallowed  a  dose  of  calcined  magnesia  (which  I 
always  carry  about  me)  and  took  a  piece  of  rhubarb  root  into 
my  mouth.  After  lying  awake  and  tossing  about  for  nearly  two 
hours,  I  fell  asleep  again  and  woke  at  half-past  5.  The  medi- 
cine having  taken  effect,  I  found  myself  better,  and,  at  9  o'clock, 
went  out  to  secure  my  place  in  the  diligence  for  Bonn,  and  to 
see  once  more  the  cathedral  and  the  Jesuit's  church. 

I  had  a  little  hobbling  fellow,  about  fifty-eight  years  old,  for  a 
guide  to  these  objects.  He  spoke  some  French  and  I  some  Ger- 
man, and  thus  contrived  to  be  not  quite  unintelligible  to  one 
another. 

At  the  Diligence  office,  I  was  once  more  struck  with  the  om- 
nipresence and  obtrusiveness  of  the  police  in  these  countries. 
As  it  is  the  first  time,  for  sixteen  years,  that  I  have  ever  been  in 
the  territory  of  an  absolute  prince,  such  things  make  a  great 
impression  on  me.  The  government  has  the  exclusive  exploita- 
tion of  all  travelling  by  post :  whether  in  your  own  or  a  public 
carriage  (scnell  wagen).     You  are  not  allowed  to  take  a  place 


JOURNAL  OF  THE  RHINE.  113 


/ 


in  the  latter,  without  presenting  yourself  in  person,  with  your 
passport  en  regie.  If  all  be  right,  they  take  your  money  and 
give  you  a  paper,  setting  forth  all  the  rules  and  regulations  of 
this  mode  of  travelling,  as  that  each  traveller  is  allowed  to  take 
with  him  gratis  thirty  pounds  of  baggage, — all  excedant  to  go 
by  another  wagon  or  diligence,  etc.  On  this  paper  you  set  down, 
with  the  utmost  precision,  your  effects,  which  are  to  be  sent  to 
the  bureau  an  hour  before  the  coach  is  to  leave :  and  you  are  to 
keep  it  by  you,  ready  to  be  produced,  as  it  may  be  required  at 
any  stage  of  your  future  progress,  etc.,  etc.  This  schnell  ma- 
chine takes  three  hours  to  go  from  Cologne  to  Bonn,  15  miles. 

The  cathedral — magnificent  beyond  description,  so  far  as  it 
goes — was  never  finished ;  but  they  are  now  at  work  upon  it, 
inside  and  outside,  for  that  purpose.  The  Gothic  carving  and 
painted  glass  of  the  quire  and  adjacent  parts  are  richer  than 
any  thing  of  the  kind  I  remember.  The  glass  especially,  I  think, 
excels  the  so  much  and  so  deservedly  vaunted  present  of  Charles 
V.,  in  St.  Gudule  at  Brussels.  As  I  was  only  refreshing  my 
recollection,  I  did  not  ask  to  be  allowed  to  renew  my  acquaint- 
ance with  the  famous  three  kings,  or  Wise  Men  of  the  East, 
whose  real  bodies  are  unquestionably  deposited  in  a  shrine  be- 
hind the  high  altar  of  this  cathedral,  and  may  be  seen  at  any 
time  for  eight  livres  tournois  ;  neither  did  I  penetrate  into  the 
sacristy,  replete  with  curious  relics.  They  were  celebrating 
mass,  and  I  listened  with  profound  pleasure  to  the  deep-toned 
organ, — the  Christian  instrument.  The  pillars  in  the  nave  of 
the  cathedral  are  said  to  be  one  hundred  and  eight  in  number, 
and  are  of  a  prodigious  circumference, — much  greater  than  those 
of  the  church  at  Antwerp.  On  the  whole,  however,  I  was  less 
impressed  with  the  richness  and  magnificence  of  this  church, 
than  with  the  vastness,  the  height  and  the  naked  simplicity  of 
that  of  Antwerp,  which  I  had  so  recently  seen,  as  to  have  all 
the  impression  it  made  upon  me  still  fresh  on  my  mind.  The 
latter  appears  to  me,  judging  only  by  the  eye,  much  longer  and 
more  spacious, — but  then  the  cathedral  at  Cologne  being  in  the 
act  of  undergoing  repairs,  or,  rather,  of  being  completed,  was  in 
some  degree  encumbered  with  the  usual  apparatus. 

The  Jesuit's  church  is  a  gaudy  affair,  like  others  belonging  to 
the  same  order  which  I  have  seen  elsewhere. 

Bonn,  25th  May. 

I  left  Cologne  at  2  o'clock,  in  the  schneli-post,  and  arrived 
here  at  5.  Lodgings  at  the  Stern,  or  Star :  small  room,  but 
neatly  furnished,  and  a  good  bed  with  clean  new  sheets.  As  I 
was  to  spend  several  days  here,  this  latter  was  a  matter  of  in- 
finite importance.  I  ordered  a  simple  dinner  to  be  served  :  it 
was  very  bad. 

vol.  i. — 15 


114  JOURNAL  OF  THE  RHINE. 

The  next  morning  (23d),  I  wrote  a  note  to  M.  and  Madame 
Arconati  Viconti,  announcing  my  arrival,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
sent  to  M.  Schlegel  a  letter  of  introduction  I  had  received  from 
M.  Arrivabene,  to  serve  in  case  the  Arconatis  were  not  here.  I 
receive,  by  the  return  of  my  commissionaire,  an  invitation  from 
the  latter  to  dine  with  them  enfamille  at  3,  and  am  informed 
by  M.  Schlegel  that  he  will  receive  me  at  any  time  before  1. 
At  half-past  11,  go  out  to  make  him  a  visit.  On  the  way,  1 
meet  the  Arconatis,  who  are  just  going,  they  say,  to  call  on 
some  country  people  of  mine  at  the  hotel  where  I  lodge, — Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Sidney  Brooks.  After  the  usual  compliments,  pass  on, 
and  am  admitted  at  M.  Schlegel's.  Shown  into  the  apartments 
on  the  ground  floor,  1  see,  among  other  things,  the  bust  of  the 
master  in  marble, — a  very  flattering  one,  as  I  found  afterwards, 
though  M.  Schlegel  is  rather  handsome,  in  spite  of  a  blink  in 
one  of  his  eyes.  His  old  woman  servant  presently  comes  down 
again  and  asks  me  to  walk  up.  After  a  moment's  expectation, 
an  elderly  looking  gentleman,  but  still  active  and  fresh  enough 
of  his  age,  comes  in,  quite  in  dishabille,  without  cravat  and  in 
slippers.  I  soon  saw  the  whole  man,  and  led  him  on  from  topic 
to  topic,  in  order  to  get  as  much  out  of  him  as  possible.  Speak- 
ing of  Pozzo  di  Borgo,  he  said  he  met  him  once  at  Vienna  in 
1808,  when  he  (S.)  was  travelling  with  Madame  de  Stael.  The 
gaieties  of  that  dissipated  city  were  at  their  height.  How  is  it 
possible,  says  Pozzo,  that  people  should  enjoy  themselves  so 
carelessly,  while  their  country  is  trampled  upon  as  it  is.  In 
their  joyous  insouciance,  they  asked  Madame  de  Stael  if  she 
thought  the  peace  would  last  till  after  the  hunting  and  shooting 
season  :  and  here  a  loud  laugh — (quite  a  frequent  accompani- 
ment of  M.  S's.  conversation).  Then  we  talk  of  the  University 
of  Bonn, — of  the  perfect  religious  toleration  that  exists  in  Prus- 
sia, where  young  men  of  the  Catholic  and  Protestant  commu- 
nions study  together,  etc., — English  politics,  etc.  I  get  up  to 
take  my  leave  until  we  should  meet  again  at  dinner  at  the  Ar- 
conati's,  but,  as  I  am  doing  so,  here,  said  he,  is  something  you 
must  see.  There  is  a  likeness  of  Mad.  de  Stael  (under  it  hung 
a  miniature  image  of  Schlegel  himself)  taken  after  her  death, 
but  exceedingly  resembling  her.  Corinne  is  not  so  very  ugly 
in  this  picture,  and  has  especially  very  pretty,  tho'  rather  shrew- 
ish eyes. 

On  returning  to  my  lodgings  I  see  Mr.  Brooks'  card,  and 
shortly  after  he  asks  if  I  can  receive  him.  On  my  consenting 
to  do  so  he  comes  in,  and  I  recognise  in  him  an  old  acquaint- 
ance,— a  brother-in-law  of  Mr.  Edward  Everett.  He  hands  me 
two  letters, — one  of  them  from  my  friend  Bronson,  the  other 
from  Mr.  A.  H.  Everett.  As  I  was  about  to  make  my  toilette 
for  dinner,  our  interview  was  a  short  one. 


JOURNAL  OF  THE  RHINE.  115 

At  M.  Arconati's,  find  them  and  a  sister  of  tier's  lately  arrived 
from  Milan, — a  girl  of  about  nineteen  years,  I  suppose,  but  not 
pretty,  though  mild  and  gentle.  She  has  long  white  eye-lashes. 
Another  person  present  was  a  M.  Berge,  who  says  he  saw  me 
at  dinner  at  Sir  Robt.  Adair's  when  I  first  went  to  Brussels. 
After  waiting  some  time  for  M.  Schlegel,  his  carriage  drives  in 
and  he  soon  makes  his  appearance,  "neat,  trimly  dressed,  fresh 
as  a  bridegroom."  The  savant  seemed  to  be  very  completely 
sunk  in  the  petit  maitre.  At  dinner,  the  conversation  was  very 
various  and  agreeable.  We  talked  of  foreign  countries,  with 
which  M.  Schlegel  is  very  familiarly  acquainted, — of  races  of 
men,  negro,  quarteron,  etc.  The  latter,  he  said,  always  retain- 
ed the  African  features,  flat  nose,  etc.  I  told  him  it  was  not  so 
chez  nous,  where  some  of  them  have  the  Caucasian  face  in  its 
perfection  and  are  very  handsome.  A  subject  we  talked  a  good 
deal  about  was  the  criminal  code  and  trial  by  jury.  He  is  evi- 
dently full  of  a  reform  in  the  former,  which  he  regretted  his 
friend,  Sir  James  Mcintosh,  had  not  lived  to  accomplish.  I 
ventured  to  say  that  I  knew  no  problem  more  puzzling,  and  less 
likely  to  be  soon  satisfactorily  solved,  than  what  was  the  best 
way  of  disposing  of  a  felon, — that  is,  a  determined  criminal, — 
and  that  the  question  would  probably  have  to  be  answered  dif- 
ferently according  to  circumstances.  Unanimity  in  the  jury, 
which  he  attacked,  I  stoutly  defended ;  affirming  that,  without 
requiring  that,  there  would  be  a  very  insufficient  examination 
of  cases  by  these  occasional  undisciplined  judges,  and  I  was  not 
sure  whether  the  institution  would  be  worth  fighting  for  without 
it.  "Nay,  but,"  said  he,  "even  with  a  majority  of  only  seven  to 
five,  we  are  very  much  attached  to  the  system."  A  case  was 
mentioned  in  which  a  man.  having  been  convicted  on  very 
doubtful  evidence,  of  a  murder  committed  seven  years  belore,  the 
king  of  Prussia,  of  his  absolute  power,  set  aside  the  sentence,  and 
had  the  cause  re-judged  in  Silesia,  where  the  accused  was  ac- 
quitted. H.  M.,  in  his  zeal  to  do  good,  violated  the  forms.  Speak 
also  of  M.  De  Tocqueville's  recent  book  on  the  Democracy  of 
the  United  States.  Tell  them  I  have  not  read  it,  and  so  get  off 
without  giving  a  general  opinion  on  the  subject.  Add  that,  from 
some  observations  on  it  in  the  Debats,  he  seems  to  have  seen 
things  in  a  truer  light  than  foreigners  usually  do, — e.  g.,  he 
dates  our  republicanism,  not  as  people  on  this  side  the  Atlantic 
absurdly  imagine,  from  the  Revolution,  but  from  the  very  foun- 
dation of  the  colonies,  which  I  explain,  adding  at  the  same  time, 
that  nothing  could  be  more  widely  different  than  such  a  revolu- 
tion, and  one  (like  that  of  '89,  for  instance)  where  every  thing 
had  to  be  pulled  down  and  set  up  again  ;  witness  the  South- 
American  abortions. 

After  dinner,  we  retire  to  the  salon  to  take  coffee,  which  I 


116  JOURNAL  OF  THE  RHINE. 

actually  did  !  vae  mihi !  M.  S's.  libellus  on  the  Hippolytus  of 
Euripides  and  the  Phaedra  of  Racine  being  mentioned,  I  say 
that  1  had  read  such  a  diatribe  over,  and  considered  it  as  in- 
controvertibly  just  and  an  admirable  specimen  of  comparative 
criticism.  He  reads  some  lines  from  Pradon,  of  which  the  pur- 
port was  that  Hippolytus,  at  Paris,  must  be  gallant  to  please, 
and  not  sauvage  and  intractable  to  Venus,  as  he  was  ;  in  short, 
that  Hippolytus  must  cease  to  be  Hippolytus.  The  conversation 
turns  on  other  kindred  topics, — Spanish  theatre,  license  oi  satire, 
etc.  Schlegel  mentions  no  bad  joke  of  Philip  IV.,  (I  think,) 
who  used  to  recite  verses  with  Calderon,  who  had  a  wonderful 
facility  at  improvisation.  They  were  doing  an  auto,  in  which 
Philip  was  God,  and  the  poet,  Adam.  The  latter  had  the  parole 
and  kept  it  an  unconscionably  long  time,  until  the  creator,  be- 
coming impatient,  interrupts  him  by  saying,  "Yes,  I  am  your 
creator  ;  and  I  repent  me  already  of  having  made  such  a  garru- 
lous fellow," — un  Adam  tan  hablador. 

Presently  M.  S's.  carriage  drives  in,  and  I  am  told  the  ar- 
rangement of  the  evening  is  that  the  Arconatis  shall  go  in  their 
carriage  and  take  the  Brooks'  out  to  drive.  M.  S.,  who  proposes 
to  me  to  join  him  in  a  similar  promenade,  gives  Mad.  Arconati 
rendezvous  at  the  Botanical  Garden.  We  take  leave,  and  get 
up  into  a  very  nice  caleche  drawn  by  two  fine  horses,  and  driven 
by  a  coachman  in  livery,  with  a  footman  to  suit.  I  ask  M. 
Schlegel  how  it  happens  that,  his  account  of  the  genius  of  So- 
phocles being  supposed  just,  (as  I  for  one  certainly  think  it,  for 
in  reading  it  after,  as  well  as  before  the  original  text,  I  have 
felt  it  to  be  so,  even  to  the  encomium  he  bestows  on  the  Attic 
grace  and  sweetness  of  the  CEdipus  Coloneus,)  so  many  ancient 
critics  seem  to  prefer  Euripides — the  r^aviwraros,  as  he  is  called — 
and  that  not  only  in  reference  to  tenderness,  but  generally.  He 
asks  me  whom  I  cite.  I  tell  him  Aristotle's  Portius,  and  a  pas- 
sage or  two  in  Plato's  Dialogues,  which,  although  I  could  not 
refer  to  more  particularly,  I  had  noted  in  my  study  book,  be- 
cause they  struck  me  very  forcibly.  The  mineralogical  cabinet 
is  in  a  fine  ci-devant  maison  de  plaisance  of  the  ex- Archbishop 
Elector.  We  went  through  all  its  apartments.  In  one  of  them 
we  meet  with  the  Arconatis,  and  I  make  the  acquaintance  of  my 
nice  little  country-woman,  Mrs.  Brooks,  who  looks  very  Eng- 
lish (being  very  blond,  with  soft,  silky  hair,  and  rather  inclined 
to  be  fatter  than  most  American  women)  and  speaks  the  verna- 
cular without  any  nasal  twang  at  all, — a  rare  thing  for  one  of 
my  dear  country-women.  She  tells  me  she  has  heard  so  much 
of  me  from  all  her  friends,  especially  Julia  Livingston  that  was, 
that  she  can  hardly  consider  me  as  a  stranger.  I  am  charmed 
to  see  her,  and  do  my  best  to  let  her  perceive  that  I  am.  Find 
her  speaking  French  extremely  well.  She  is  of  a  Boston  family, 


JOURNAL  OF  THE  RHINE.  117 

awl  a  niece  of  Bishop  Dehon's.  Our  walk  about  the  garden 
was  very  agreeable,  and,  as  we  were  about  to  leave  it,  we  mount- 
ed a  flight  of  steps  which  lead  up  to  one  of  the  principal  doors 
of  the  palace,  from  the  landing-place  of  which  there  is  a  fine 
view  of  the  Septmonts  in  the  distance.  Thence  the  conversa- 
tion turns  on  the  picturesque  and  the  beautiful.  M.  Schlegel 
says  it  is  absurd  to  compare  scenes  in  different  countries, — that 
every  country  has  its  own  beauties, — the  most  sterile  and  ill- 
favored  is  not  without  them  ;  witness  Holland,  which  has  pro- 
duced such  masters  in  landscape  painting.  I  answer  that,  a 
force  de  regarder  beaucoup,  they  had  at  last  seen,  or  imagined 
they  saw  something.  I  see,  said  he,  you  are  an  incredule.  Af- 
ter a  good  deal  of  conversation,  we  return  to  the  carriages.  He 
asks  me  to  go  home  with  him  and  drink  tea, — an  invitation 
which  I  cheerfully  accept.  On  our  way,  I  ask  after  Hugo  and 
Savigny.  They  do  not  seem  to  stand  very  well  in  his  estima- 
tion. Repeats  what  somebody  said,  that  the  civil  law  was  like 
scenery  in  twilight, — you  may  make  what  you  please  of  it. 
Savigny,  he  adds,  is  of  what  they  call  the  historical  school.  I 
tell  him,  as  I  interpret  the  expression,  I  am  half  inclined  to  be 
of  that  school  myself ;  and  ask  him  what  meaning  he  attaches 
to  the  term.  He  explains  it  as  being  a  sort  of  legislative  neces- 
sity, by  which  every  age,  nescio  quofato,  makes  the  laws  that 
suit  it.  I  then  say,  all  I  mean  is  that  the  traditions  of  a  coun- 
try must  be  respected  in  its  constitutional  innovations ;  other- 
wise one  of  two  things  ensues, — either  your  constitution  is  dead- 
born,  as  in  Belgium  now,  or  every  thing  is  turned  into  chaos  as 
by  the  Constituent  Assembly,  and  refer  again  to  our  own  his- 
tory. On  the  subject  of  the  Constituante,  he  thinks  justice  is 
not  done  it ;  that,  with  all  its  errors  and  the  evils  they  did  or 
did  not  lead  to,  the  general  result  is  good ;  that  to  get  what  we 
have,  we  must  have  demanded  what  they  did,  etc.,  etc.  The 
privileged  classes  never  would  have  yielded  to  any  reform  less 
unsparing. 

Arrived  at  his  house,  I  am  shown  up  (this  time)  into  his  study, 
where  the  first  thing  I  see  is  another  bust  of  himself,  backed  by 
a  half-length  portrait.  Amour  propre,  it  seems,  is  no  iconoclast, 
or  rather  the  contrary.  I  ask  after  Niebuhr,  whose  singularly 
fine  head  we  had  seen  at  the  country  palace.  Gives  me  clearly 
to  perceive  that  he  was  no  friends  with  the  great  historian,  whose 
department  (that,  I  mean,  of  Roman  history)  M.  S.  now  actu- 
ally fills,  and  some  of  whose  opinions  he  disputes.  Apropos  of 
his  scepticism,  I  tell  him  that  was  obvious  enough  ;  but  what 
made  him  remarkable  was  not  the  disputing,  but  the  interpret- 
ing the  scanty  and  hardly  intelligible  remains  of  those  early 
annals.  He  says  Niebuhr  was  altogether  impatient  of  contra- 
diction, and  has  no  doubt  but  that  his  end  was  hastened  by  the 


118  JOURNAL  OF  THE  RHINE. 

revolutionary  events  of  1830,  which  preyed  inconceivably  upon 
his  mind ;  although  he  was  here,  (he  adds,)  so  to  express  it,  en 
volontaire,  and  might  have  gone  away  when  he  pleased,  not  as 
I,  nailed  to  the  spot  by  my  house,  etc.  The  conversation  turns 
afterwards  on  Oriental  literature,  to  which  (Sanscrit,  especially) 
M.  Schlegel  is  now  particularly  devoted.  Presents  me  with  a 
letter  of  his  to  Sir  J.  Mcintosh  on  that  subject,  which  he  sends 
me  the  next  day  with  a  note. 

I  left  him  at  half-past  9,  and,  on  returning  to  the  "Star",  call 
on  Mr.  Brooks  to  arrange  about  the  morrow,  when  we  are  en- 
gaged to  visit  the  Drachenfels  with  the  Arconatis.  I  had  stipu- 
lated for  permission  to  go  first  to  mass,  (it  being  Sunday,)  which 
I  never  miss  in  travelling  in  any  Catholic  country  where  there 
is  a  cathedral.  The  Brooks'  agree  to  go  with  me,  and  acoord- 
ingly  we  repair  thither  at  9  o'clock,  but,  after  some  delay  and 
difficulty  (owing  to  the  great  crowd)  in  getting  in,  find  the  cere- 
mony begins  with  a  sermon,  and  that  in  German.  After  waiting 
in  vain  for  the  fine  music  we  expected,  force  our  way  out,  and, 
at  about  11,  set  out  with  the  Arconatis  to  the  object  of  our  morn- 
ing's visit.  Our  party  filled  two  open  carriages.  We  passed  by 
the  Godesberg,  and  reached  the  Rhine  (which  was  very  full  and 
muddy,  with  a  strong  current,  and  which  we  crossed  in  one  of 
their  flat-bottomed  sail  boats)  about  five  miles  from  the  town. 
Donkeys  were  waiting  on  the  opposite  bank,  ready  caparisoned 
[here  enter  M.  Arconati,  and  afterwards  M.  de  Schlegel,  to  take 
leave  of  me,  as  I  go  to-morrow,  May  28] :  the  male  part  of  our 
company  all  prefer  walking  up  the  mountain,  but  Mad.  Arconati 
and  Mrs.  Brooks  mount  two  of  these  long-eared  dwarfs.  Mrs. 
B's.  goes  along  very  well,  but  Mad.  Arconati's  little  beast  can't 
be  thumped  or  pulled  into  any  sort  of  usefulness,  so  that  she  is 
fain  to  dismount  and  trudge  along  with  the  rest  of  us  ;  du  reste, 
the  ascent  is  not  very  steep,  and  we  are  soon  standing  on  the 
esplanade  formed  a  little  below  the  ruined  castle,  and  adorned 
with  a  monument  to  the  heroes  who  fell  in  1814.  The  view  on 
all  sides  is  delicious  ;  unfortunately  for  the  picturesque,  though 
well  for  our  bodily  comfort,  there  was  no  sunshine,  though  the 
weather  was  soft  and  genial.  After  enjoying  this  vast  and  beau- 
tiful prospect  for  a  long  time,  we  repair  to  the  sort  of  eating 
house  built  here  for  the  accommodation  of  visiters,  and  find  a 
collation  prepared  for  us  by  the  kind  attention  of  onr  friends, 
the  A's.  I  had  a  tremendous  appetite,  as  we  ail  had,  though  it 
was  only  2  o'clock  ;  and,  to  make  it  better,  (or,  as  it  turned  out, 
worse,)  there  was  champagne  foaming  and  dancing  in  its  crys- 
tal bounds,  and  a  bottle  of  the  very  finest  Johannisberger,  which 
Mr.  Brooks  had  himself  bought  at  McHernich's  altar,  and 
brought  with  him,  as  if  to  be  offered  up  in  libations  on  this 
magnificent  altar  to  the  genius  of  the  Rhein  gau.     After  our 


JOURNAL  OP  THE  RHINE. 


119 


repast,  made  agreeable  by  so  many  various  attractions,  not  to 
mention  a  delightful  conversation,  we  descend  once  more  to  the 
esplanade  and  feast  our  eyes  upon  the  beauties  of  the  scenery, 
now  somewhat  varied  by  certain  accidents  of  light,  struggling 
through  the  haze  in  the  distance.  After  re-crossing  the  river, 
and  getting  into  our  caleche  with  Mesd.  Arconati  and  Brooks,  I 
find,  to  my  great  annoyance,  that  a  sore-throat  I  had  brought 
with  me  from  Brussels,  and  thought  almost  cured,  has  been  so 
much  irritated  by  the  mountain  air  and  mounting  exercise,  not 
to  mention  as  many  as  four  glasses  of  unmixed  wine,  (merum.) 
a  horrible  debauch  for  me,  that  I  am  obliged  to  send  for  a  doctor 
on  returning  to  my  hotel. 

This  physician,  recommended  by  Madame  Arconati,  was  M. 
Nasse,  a  man  of  fifty  or  sixty,  a  professor  of  the  University. 
He  recommended  an  antiphlogistic  treatment ;  i.  e.,  abstinence 
and  a  tisane, — told  me  I  was  very  wrong  to  take  calomel,  as  I 
was  evidently  inclined  to  congestions  in  the  upper  regions.  He 
was,  I  found,  a  most  agreeable  person,  and  I  derived  so  much 
pleasure  from  his  conversation  in  the  four  visits  he  paid  me  in 
three  days,  that  I  most  cheerfully  paid  him  a  fee  of  five  rix 
thalers  in  taking  leave  of  him.  I  had  discussed  with  him  all 
the  various  systems  of  medicine.  He  seemed  to  like  none. 
When  he  heard  I  was  an  American,  he  said,  "On  dit  beaucoup 
de  mal  de  vous."  In  truth  they  do,  and  no  better  proof  of  it 
than  that  there  is  no  spot  so  sequestered  in  Europe,  but  a  clear- 
sighted and  quick-eared  American  finds  it  out  in  a  couple  of 
days. 

As  he  forbad  my  going  out,  this  malady,  which  has  detained 
me  up  to  this  present  writing,  (28th  May,  9  o'clock,  P.  M.,)  four 
days  longer  than  I  meant  to  stay,  has  also  sadly  curtailed  the 
pleasures  and  advantages  of  my  sejour :  in  the  first  place,  I  had 
to  renounce  a  tea-party  at  M.  Schlegel's,  though  he  has  repeat- 
edly called  on  me  since. 

In  the  few  hours,  during  which  I  have  felt  safe  in  going  out, 
I  have  been  to  the  well-furnished  librairie  of  M.  Weber,  pub- 
lisher of  the  Byzantine  Histories  of  Niebuhr,  (continued  by 
Becker  and  the  other  philologists  of  the  Berlin  University,) 
where,  besides  taking  a  note  of  many  precious  works,  I  buy 
Schlegel's  Dramatic  Literature  in  German,  and  a  translation  into 
modern  German  of  the  Nibelungenlied. 

Nordhausen,  Thursday,  22d  April,  1836. 

I  left  Brussels  on  Monday  evening,  ISth  April,  at  half-past  9 
o'clock,  and  travelled  incessantly  until  I  arrived  at  Aix  la  Cha- 
pelle  the  next  day,  at  about  4,  where  I  dined.  It  was  not  until 
nearly  7  that  I  set  oft'  again  towards  Juliers,  my  resting-place 
for  the  night.     Very  good  apartment  and  bed.     23d,  at  half-past 


120  JOURNAL  OP  THE  RHINE. 

6,  am  off  again  for  Dusseldorf,  (6J  German  miles,) — thence  to 
Elberfeldt,  where  I  dine.  This  flourishing  manufacturing  place 
filled  me  with  astonishment.  I  have  seen  nothing  like  it  in 
Europe.  It  has  all  the  freshness  and  life  of  an  American  town 
in  one  of  the  new  States.  It  is  built  upon  the  banks  of  a  stream, 
which  sets  its  mills  in  motion,  and  it  completely  fills  up  the 
narrow  but  beautiful  valley,  for  miles  together,  with  factories 
and  dwelling-houses, — all  remarkable  for  neatness  and  cleanli- 
ness, and  many  for  a  degree  of  elegance  and  grandeur  rarely  to 
be  met  with  in  great  capitals.  It  is  rather  a  collection  of  manu- 
facturing towns,  than  one  city ;  and,  all  together,  they  contain 
some  sixty  thousand  inhabitants.  I  do  not  remember  ever  to 
have  had  a  more  agreeable  drive  than  this,  from  the  time  I 
crossed  the  Rhine  on  a  pont  volant  at  Dusseldorf,  until  I  had 
passed  Elberfeldt  some  three  or  four  German  miles, — making,  in 
all,  a  distance  of  about  thirty  English  miles, — but  from  the  last 
mentioned  station  to  the  town  (Nordhausen)  in  which  I  am 
writing  this,  that  is  to  say,  for  one  hundred  and  fifty  English 
miles  together,  it  has  been  all  barrenness  and  desolation.  The 
road — a  most  excellent  one,  macadamized — runs  the  whole  way 
between  very  high  hills  approaching  very  near  to  each  other,  so 
that  there  is  very  little  prospect.  On  such  an  elevation,  the 
spring  has  as  yet  made  hardly  any  progress,  and  so  the  trees  are 
bare  and  the  heath  brown.  The  towns  and  villages,  with  a 
single  exception,  are  the  most  miserable,  dirty,  ragged  collection 
of  huts  that  can  be  conceived ;  houses  built  of  wood  frames, 
filled  up  with  clay,  and  most  of  them  decaying  and  dilapidated. 
In  short,  every  thing  looks  poverty-stricken  and  primitive.  This 
is  more  strictly  true  of  Hesse,  which  one  traverses  through  its 
pretty  capital,  Cassel,  which  is  really  a  charming  little  town, 
and  where  I  was  almost  tempted,  in  spite  of  my  haste  to  be  at 
Berlin,  to  spend  a  day.  As  it  was,  I  lounged  away  a  pleasant 
evening  in  looking  down  from  its  fine  squares  and  walks  upon 
the  beautiful  garden  on  the  hill-side,  and  the  smiling  green  val- 
ley into  which  it  runs  out  to  a  great  distance.  The  public 
edifices,  without  being  particularly  fine,  are  still  very  respectable 
in  size  and  appearance,  and  the  upper  part  of  the  town  is  laid 
out  with  great  regularity.  There  is  a  statue,  in  the  square  of 
the  palace,  of  the  Grand  Duke  Frederick  II.,  with  the  date  1783. 
Was  that  the  man  who  sold  his  troops  to  George  III.,  to  reduce 
us  to  subjection  ?  and  if  yea,  was  it  for  that  his  country  erected 
this  statue  ?  The  peasants  have  rather  a  remarkable  costume  ; 
the  men  (who  seem  generally  fine, — at  least,  so  far  as  I  can 
judge  from  what  I  saw  in  a  residence  amongst  them  of  at  least 
twenty-four  hours  from  first  to  last)  wear  boots  or  gaiters  up  to 
the  knees ;  the  women  comb  their  hair  all  back  from  the  fore- 
head, and  gather  it  in  a  knot  on  the  top  of  the  head,  where  it  is 


JOURNAL  OF  THE  RHINE.  121 

covered  by  a  black  patch,  not  unlike  the  calotte  of  a  priest.  I 
must  not  forget  to  mention  a  rather  curious  incident.  In  the 
morning  before  I  set  off,  I  strolled  out  to  cast  another  glance 
over  the  town  and  suburbs.  I  remarked  very  many  people 
walking  with  great  speed  down  the  town,  to  what  I  at  first  sup- 
posed was  a  market-place.  I  go  round  a  square,  and  re-enter 
the  same  street,  where  I  see  still  as  many  people  all  hastening 
the  same  way.  It  now  strikes  me  that  this  can  be  no  every  day 
matter  like  a  market,  nor,  indeed,  any  sort  of  business  whatever. 
There  is  something  extraordinary  occurring ;  I  rather  think  it 
is  an  execution.  I  thought,  however,  no  more  of  the  matter, 
until  the  head  waiter,  coming  in  to  receive  the  amount  of  my 
bill,  tells  me  they  are  cutting  off  the  head  of  an  assassin  that 
had  murdered  three  people,  and  that  I  shall  pass  very  near  the 
spot.  I  did  so,  but  met  the  crowd  (an  immense  one  for  so  small 
a  place)  all  returning,  and  saw  the  scaffold,  but  nothing  on  it 
but  some  two  or  three  men  in  cocked  hats, — who  were  probably 
the  Jack-ketch  and  his  suite.  It  seems  they  cut  off  heads  here, 
and  with  a  sword,  in  the  old-fashioned  way.  I  should  have 
been  glad  to  see  the  apparatus,  but  did  not  like  to  discover  my 
curiosity  to  so  many  people. 

Madgeburg,  23d  April. 

I  arrived  but  a  couple  of  hours  ago  in  this  famous  old  town, 
of  which,  as  it  was  9  o'clock  when  I  got  here,  I  have  as  yet 
seen  nothing.     Lodging,  Stadt-London,  kept  by  an  Alsacian. 

To  go  on  with  my  journal  where  I  left  off.  I  was  not  deter- 
mined, when  I  left  Cassel,  how  far  I  should  travel  before  I 
stopped  again.  Find  the  posting  cheaper,  but  progress  less,  than 
in  the  Prussian  dominions  heretofore.  After  going  some  twenty 
miles,  I  arrive  at  the  bank  of  a  rapid  stream,  where  a  book  is 
handed  me  to  write  my  name.  Infer  (for  I  can't  comprehend 
the  German  of  the  man  "that  offers  it)  that  I  am  already  at  the 
end  of  the  Grand  Duke's  territory  ;  and,  on  consulting  my  map, 
find  that  the  stream  above  mentioned  is  the  Weser  and  the 
border.  Weather  charming.  At  8,  the  moon  shines  beautifully 
out,  and  the  remainder  of  my  drive  to  Nordhausen  a  true  party 
of  pleasure.  Moonlight  and  motion  always  make  me  meditative 
and  romantic.  Think  what  an  adventure  it  will  be  to  pass 
through  the  Hartz  at  this  witching  time.  But  then,  Stolberg, 
where  the  ridge  of  mountains  begins,  (it  is  about  sixteen  Eng- 
lish miles  across,)  is  more  than  two  posts  beyond  Nordhausen  ; 
and  the  moon  is  only  in  the  beginning  of  its  second  quarter, 
and  so  her  smiles  upon  her  benighted  wooer  not  to  be  expected 
to  continue  even  so  long  as  a  woman's  empire  usually  lasts.  A 
mountainous  journey  always  a  long  one, — witness  a  similar 
vol.  i. — 16 


122  JOURNAL  OF  THE  RHINE. 

attempt,  and  the  repentance  it  occasioned  me,  on  the  Saluda 
mountain  in  1830.  besides,  a  morning  drive,  at  this  season, 
must  be  so  fresh  and  delicious  in  these  regions ;  and,  if  one 
muses  less,  one  sees  more  by  sunlight.  I  decide,  for  once,  to 
sacrifice  imagination  to  sense  and  the  senses,  and  determine  to 
"turn  in"  at  Nordhausen.  Tell  the  postillion  I  mean  to  stop  at 
the  Post, — which  d'Arnin  describes  in  the  Itinerary  he  gave  me 
by  way  of  cuphemisme,  as  an  anberge  invd'were.  The  sight  of 
the  town,  by  moonlight,  enough  to  make  night  hideous.  All 
the  houses  built  after  the  fashion  described  above, — a  frame  of 
wood,  filled  up  with  clay  or  bricks,  so  as  to  leave  every  rib  and 
rafter  exposed  to  view, — giving  to  these  deformed  masses,  espe- 
cially at  this  hour,  the  appearance  of  stuffed  skeletons.  I  verily 
do  not  believe  the  least  change  has  been  made  in  this,  nor,  in- 
deed, any  other  particular,  in  this  whole  country,  from  Elber- 
feldt  to  Stolberg,  since  the  thirty  years  war.  I  had  no  concep- 
tion there  was,  in  any  part  of  Western  Europe,  such  a  miserably 
lodged  peasantry.  Many  of  their  huts  strongly  recalled  those 
of  our  slaves  in  the  Southern  States. — But  this  by-the-bye. 

Arrived  at  mine  host  of  the  "Romische  Kaiser",  I  ask  for  an 
apartment,  and  am  shown  up  two  pair  of  stairs  to  a  close,  un- 
ventilated  room,  wherein  are  two  beds,  both  together  narrower 
than  the  one  I  left  at  the  Hotel  de  Bellevue.  I  hate  being  at  too 
close  quarters  even  with  myself,  and  having  found  the  inconve- 
nience of  being  stinted  in  space  the  night  before,  the  sight  of 
these  couchettes  oVenfer, — not  enfer,  like  Gen.  Evain's, — makes 
me  nervous.  Yielding  to  the  first  impression,  I  rush  out  of  the 
room  and  down  the  stair-case,  protesting  to  mine  host,  who 
speaks  a  little  French,  that  I  can't  think  of  lying  down  on  such 
a  couch,  and  ask  if  he  has  nothing  better.  Nothing  ;  all  beds 
that  he  has  ever  heard  of  made  just  in  the  same  fashion.  I  get 
into  my  carriage, — bawl  out  in  broken  German  to  the  postillion 
to  put  his  horses  to  again  and  take  me  to  the  Post.  "Here  is 
the  Post,"  says  he.  Very  well,  let  me  have  horses  and  be  off, — 
I  am  better  here.  They  are  about  complying,  when  I  get  down 
and  ask  to  be  shown  some  other  rooms.  At  length  I  make 
choice  of  one,  in  which  the  bed  is  just  as  narrow,  and  the  ceil- 
ings much  lower,  but  which  has  a  window  open,  and  is,  of 
course,  well  aired.  Here  I  establish  myself  for  better  for  worse. 
The  bed  is  made.  Another  shock  for  my  nerves.  There  is  only 
one  sheet,  on  which  one  lies  down, — the  place  of  the  upper  one, 
as  well  as  of  blankets  and  counterpane,  being  supplied  by  a  sort 
of  sack,  covered  with  a  linen  case  like  a  bolster-case.  This 
puzzles  my  servant  exceedingly, — he  is  no  conjuror,  it  is  true. 
After  writing  the  first  part  of  these  notes,  I  enter  with  as  much 
resignation  as  was  to  be  expected  upon  this  new  trial,  and  what 


JOURNAL  OF  THE  RHINE.  123 

with  extreme  fatigue,  and  what  with  the  idea  of  rising  the  ear- 
lier to  begin  my  mountain  excursion,  if  I  slept  little,  I  make  out 
to  pass  the  night  well  enough.     Rise  at  5. 

The  drive  from  Nordhausen  to  Stolberg,  in  this  morning  air, 
as  delightful  as  possible.  The  sides  of  the  mountains  are  cov- 
ered with  wood, — the  road  is  for  the  most  part  in  a  valley,  and, 
as  you  approach  the  latter  place,  along  an  impetuous,  brawling 
stream.  I  should  suppose  this  excursion,  in  the  summer,  as 
charming  as  possible  to  a  man  of  woods  and  streams,  as  I  am. 
There  are  some  evergreens, — something  like  stunted  cedar, — 
that  give  great  freshness  to  the  scene  even  now. 

The  chateau  of  the  Count  of  Stolberg  hangs  in  the  air  abrupt- 
ly over  the  miserable  village  of  that  name.  I  get  out  of  my 
carriage,  walk  through  the  village,  and  clamber  up  the  sides  of 
the  mountain  on  which  the  chateau  does  not  stand,  but  from 
which  you  command  a  fine  view  of  this  part  of  the  Hartz. 

Soon  after  getting  into  my  carriage,  and  making  the  best  of 
my  way  out  of  the  filthy  and  ill-paved  streets,  (the  latter  to  an 
incredible  degree,) — (by-the-bye,  here  is  the  house  in  which  the 
famous  anabaptist  peasant  leader,  Munster,  was  born, — who  that 
sees  what  their  condition  is  now,  can  wonder  that  they  found  it 
intolerable  then  ?) — I  begin  to  ascend,  and  for  sixteen  miles  am 
crossing  the  ridge :  at  first  on  a  magnificent  macadamized  road, 
but,  after  getting  into  Anhalt,  on  a  wretched,  unpaved  cross-road, 
precisely  such  as  I  am  accustomed  to  in  some  of  the  wildest 
parts  of  the  Southern  country,  as  narrow  as  the  bed  I  slept  in 
and  as  hard  too. — though  in  bad  weather,  I  suppose,  from  the 
terrible  ruts  that  are  shaking  me  to  pieces,  just  the  reverse,  and, 
indeed,  I  do  not  know  how  it  can  be  practicable  at  all.  It  is  a 
a  fac-simile  of  that  which  leads  from  the  turnpike  to  Guesbeck, 
near  Brussels.  I  tremble  at  the  thought  of  what  it  must  have 
been  a  fortnight  since.  The  Hartz  mountain,  as  far  as  the  pre- 
sent turnpike  goes,  is  completely  wooded,  and  the  Blue  Ridge  in 
North-Carolina  all  over  again,  bating,  however,  most  of  its  beau- 
ties. 

I  arrive  at  a  post  station,  where  I  am  allowed  to  wait  com- 
posedly for  half  an  hour.  I  was  saved  from  desperation  by  a 
rather  singular  occurrence.  There  was  a  posse  of  boys  of  va- 
rious ages  and  sizes,  from  17  and  18  downwards,  singing  psalms 
(I  suppose)  in  the  street.  They  would  stop  before  one  house 
and  raise  a  stave,  then  another,  and  at  last  near  my  carriage. 
They  sang  all  the  parts  of  a  chorus,  and  very  well  indeed.  I 
love  music  (next  to  woman)  of  all  things  in  this  world,  and 
sacred  music  especially, — then  in  this  solitude, — this  mountain- 
ous region  of  pure  air  and  pure  morals,  etc.,  etc.  Religion  and 
music— the  worship  of  God  and  the  worship  of  nature.  In 
spite  of  this  agreeable  distraction,  however,  do  not  forget  I  am 


124  JOURNAL  OF  THE  RHINE. 

travelling,  and  so  greatly  annoyed  by  the  non-appearance  of  the 
postillion  and  his  gear.  The  Prussian,  who  brought  me  hither, 
having  pocketed  his  drink  geld,  has  coolly  walked  off,  and  I  see 
no  living  soul  at  all  interested  in  my  fate  ;  become  impatient  ; 
make  my  servant  rap  at  the  door, — nobody  comes;  again, — 
again.  A  girl  shows  herself,  and,  divining  my  wants,  throws  a 
cloak  about  her  (the  morning  air  was  shrewd)  and  runs  to  a  con- 
siderable distance.  At  last  appear,  in  the  offing,  the  Anhalt 
postillion  and  his  ragged  concern.  The  whole  thing  dismally 
poverty-stricken.  Such  fare  as  one  gets  in  an  old  country  house 
of  a  decayed  gentleman's  family.  Man  very  stout  and  stupid  ; 
beasts  very  spare,  but  not  less  dull  than  the  man  for  all  that. 
When  we  come  to  mount  the  first  long  hill  side,  I  feel  the  great- 
est commiseration, — especially  when  the  postillion  lays  hold  of 
the  smaller  and  more  willing  beast,  as  if  to  drag  him  along. 
Descend,  en  revanche,  very  well,  and,  at  the  foot  of  one  of  the 
mountains,  see  a  black  obelisk.  What  can  an  obelisk  in  these 
forgotten  solitudes  mean  ?  Get  down,  and,  approaching,  find  it 
is  to  the  "Father  of  his  Country";  of  course,  some  Duke  of  An- 
halt. Every  country,  like  every  man,  has  a  father  at  least. 
This  poor  little  nation  in  the  wilderness,  like  any  other,  has  its 
heroes.  See,  at  length,  after  a  drive  of  at  least  ten  miles,  at  the 
top  of  a  high  mountain,  a  vast  prospect  open  before  me,  and, 
descending,  descry  gradually  all  the  varied  beauties  of  a  rich 
champaign  country,  covered  with  green  crops  just  sprung  up, 
and  in  the  distance  a  towered  city, — and,  towering  over  it,  an 
Abbaye.  See  at  once  it  was  the  seat  of  an  Abbaye  Princiere; 
and  that,  as  in  so  many  other  cases,  the  land  was  consecrated  to 
religion  because  it  was  fertile,  or  was  fertile  because  it  was  con- 
secrated to  religion, — according  to  Catholic  and  heretical  ver- 
sions. Find  myself  still  doomed  to  the  rack  of  this  infernal 
cross-road,  on  which  I  travel  till  I  come  within  two  German 
miles  of  Madgeburg,  where  I  arrive  as  above. 

Potsdam,  24th  April. 

I  rose  this  morning  at  6,  and,  at  7,  was  on  my  way,  with  a 
valet-de-place  who  spoke  only  German,  to  see  the  citadel  and 
the  cathedral.  The  former  is  famous  for  having  been  Trenk's 
prison,  and  afterwards  La  Fayette's,  etc.  By  paying  a  trifle,  I 
am  let  in  by  the  keeper  of  it.  Am  much  disappointed  in  the 
horrors  of  the  place  ;  indeed,  except  a  rather  short  allowance  of 
daylight,  none  but  such  as  exist  in  every  prison,  ipso  facto.  It 
is  a  small  guard-room,  not  under  the  earth,  as  I  had  imagined, 
but  on  the  ground  floor  ;  nor  yet  damp  and  dripping,  with  water 
oozing  through  it  from  the  bed  of  the  stream  above,  (this  was 
my  strange  conceit,  heaven  knows  why.)  but  dry  and  comfortable 
enough.     The  walls  are  adorned  with  rude  drawings,  Trenk's 


JOURNAL  OP  THE  RHINE.  125 

dismal  pastime, — all  in  keeping:  an  owl,  a  death's-head  and 
cross-bones,  a  coffin, — the  date  1761,  etc.,  scratched,  or  rather 
cut,  upon  the  stone  floor, — and  what  surprised  me  most  was  a 
head  of  the  great  Frederick  himself,  excellent  well  done ;  near 
by  it  that  of  Napoleon  had  been  drawn,  (by  La  Fayette  dit-on, 
but  that  can't  be  true,)  but  the  face  has  been  defaced,  and  it  is 
only  by  the  air  that  one  recognizes  it.  The  view  up  the  Elbe 
towards  Dresden,  from  the  walls  of  the  citadel,  under  the  soft 
morning  sky  of  an  April  day,  was  charming. 

The  cathedral  is  now  used  as  a  Lutheran  church.  I  went 
half  an  hour  only  before  their  morning  service  (it  is  Sunday) 
began,  and  so  was  very  much  hurried.  Walked  round  its  long 
cloisters  before  the  beadle  came.  The  portal  is  very  fine,  and 
as,  of  all  the  Iconoclasts,  the  Lutherans  were  the  most  tolerant, 
some  saints  are  still  standing  in  their  niches  about  the  steeples, 
of  which  there  are  two,  (a  rare  thing  comme  l'on  sait,)  but  not  of 
the  highest.  The  interior  of  the  church  is  exceedingly  pretty, 
though  not  on  such  a  scale  as  Antwerp  or  Cologne.  It  owes  as 
much  to  Lutheranism  as  the  outside,  and  more.  The  choir 
stands  as  it  was,  with  its  fine  altar-piece  of  a  single  block  of 
Carrari  marble,  and  its  curiously  carved  Stattes  de  chanoine  ; 
-images,  pictures,  etc.  I  did  not  know,  until  to-day,  that  wax- 
lights  were  used — that  is,  I  had  forgotten  it — in  the  Protestant 
service.  There  were  two  burning  upon  the  altar.  Otho,  the 
Great,  plays  a  prominent  part  in  this  church.  Here  is  his  tomb 
and  that  of  his  Anglo-Saxon  wife  Editha.  Then  there  they 
are,  the  happy  couple,  in  an  old  stone  chapel,  which  I  suppose 
was  taken  out  of  some  still  more  ancient  church,  (this  dates 
from  the  beginning  of  the  thirteenth  century,)  as  it  stands,  and 
brought  into  this.  Their  majesties,  cut  in  stone,  cut  but  a  sorry 
figure  there, — Punch  and  Judy. 

A  really  curious  thing  in  this  church  is  part  of  the  armor  of 
Tilly,  who,  in  the  thirty  years  war,  destroyed  and  otherwise  (if 
it  is  not  a  bull  to  add  this)  most  villainously  entreated  Madge- 
burg, — all  for  its  own  good,  as  I  have  no  doubt.  It  seems  he 
left  nothing  standing  but  the  cathedral :  had  he  not  swept  them 
all  away,  Madgeburg  would  have  resembled  in  its  structures,  to 
this  day,  the  miserable  towns  with  the  stuffed  skeletons,  duid- 
lieburg  included,  through  which  I  have  just  passed.  Here  are 
his  helmet,  his  general's  staff,  (two  of  them,  one  with  a  lock  and 
barrel,)  his  boots,  (buskin,  with  heels  three  or  four  inches  high,) 
and  his  gloves  of  steel.  I  put  my  hand  into  one  of  these  pon- 
derous gauntlets,  and  thought  of  Wallenstein's  Lager. 

Speaking  of  Schiller  reminds  me  of  Goethe  and  Faust,  and 
Faust  oi  the  Brockenberg.  I  ought  to  have  recorded  that,  as  I 
came  rushing  down  the  last  of  the  mountains  which  break  sheer 
off  at  the  plain  of  Quidlieberg,  looking  to  the  left,  I  saw  a  peak 


126  JOURNAL  OP  THE  RHINE. 

higher  than  the  rest,  all  covered  with  snow.  1  have  not  seen 
such  a  sight  since  I  looked  on  Ben  Lomond  in  April,  1S19  !— 
horrid  reminiscence.  This  peak  was  precisely  the  Brocken, — 
(he  seat  of  Faust's  witches. 

The  journey  from  Madgeburg  to  Potsdam  is  sixteen  mortal 
German  miles.  You  pass  through  a  perfectly  flat  country, — as 
flat  as  the  low  country  of  Carolina, — and  resembling  it,  unfor- 
tunately, in  more  respects  than  one.  It  abounds  in  ponds, — 
called  in  Europe,  I  suppose,  lakes, — so  that  it  occurred  to  me 
that,  instead  of  march,  one  should  read  marsh  of  Brandenburg. 
The  highway  is  excellent  for  use,  but  detestable  for  ornament. 
Besides  these  barren  flats,  it  traverses  for  miles  a  wood  of  young 
(that  is,  in  appearance)  pines  ;  and  all  the  way,  except  in  this 
forest,  especially  from  Brandenburg  to  Potsdam  there,  you  are 
in  an  avenue  a  perte  de  vue  of  Lombardy  poplars.  The  Elbe 
it  is,  I  suppose,  that  swamps  this  whole  district, — for  one  crosses 
continually  streams  of  considerable  width,  that  are  rushing  with 
great  impetuosity.  But  that  would  prove  the  reverse  of  my 
position,  and  shew  that  the  Elbe  drained  the  country,  by  receiv- 
ing these  torrents  in  its  wide  expanse.  It  is  a  noble  river,  and 
would  be  so  in  America.  At  Madgeburg,  which  is  forty-eight 
German  miles  by  water  from  Hamburg,  it  is  said  to  be  thirty 
feet  deep,  and  though  divided  into  two  branches,  each  is  a 
mighty  flood  ;  but  it  is  dry  in  summer, — dit-on,  so  is  the  Cou- 
gar ce,  almost. 

In  the  course  of  this  long  drive  from  Elberfeldt  hither,  I  am 
struck  with  several  things.  1st.  Every  man  I  meet  bows  with 
profound,  even  deferential  respect  to  me, — that  is,  to  the  man  in 
a  post-chaise  with  a  servant  behind  him.  In  France,  the  yriHons, 
who  are  all  philosophers,  curse  you.  2d.  I  had  no  idea  one 
could  see  so  much  poor  land,  such  miserable  towns  and  villages, 
a  population  so  vilely  lodged  yet  so  primitive  and  happy, — in 
short,  such  evidences  of  things  being  just  as  they  were  a  couple 
of  centuries  ago,  in  spite  of  the  schoolmasters  and  steam  engines 
abroad, — in  the  very  heart  of  Europe.  No  Cockerel  has  been 
here  yet ;  and,  apropos  of  Cockerel,  what  a  contrast  between  the 
Ardennes  as  it  now  stands, — I  mean  the  road  from  Liege  to 
Spa, — and  the  Ardennes  of  the  Wild  Boar,  or  the  Hartz  of  to- 
day. Only  let  a  steam-engine  make  the  tour  I  have  just  finished, 
and  you'll  see.  3d.  Every  thing  is  regulated  in  Prussia.  The 
government  has  its  hand  in  every  thing ;  and  all  goes  on  with 
a  mechanical  exactness  (though  a  little  slowly  withal)  that 
strikes  one  who  has  never  lived  under  an  absolute  government. 
At  every  stage  or  relai  you  pay  in  advance  for  your  horses  and 
turnpike, — all  but  the  postillion, — and  a  printed  bill,  receipted, 
is  given  you.  Every  time  the  postillion  approaches  a  toll-gate, 
he  winds  his  horn  (a  part  of  his   uniform)  and  winds  it  twice, 


JOURNAL  OP  THE  RHINE.  127 

and  always  in  precisely  the  same  manner, — the  same  monoto- 
nous note  from  one  end  of  the  kingdom  to  the  other.  When 
yon  give  him  his  drink-geld  he  thanks  you.  and  quietly  pockets 
it  without  asking  for  more.  At  Madgeburg,  I  saw  affiche  be- 
hind the  door  of  my  apartment  a  tariff  for  my  host,  (a  French- 
man from  Alsace,)  restraining  him  to  so  much  for  each  dish  of 
tea,  each  slice  of  bread  and  butter,  but  which  did  not  prevent 
his  contriving  to  make  me  pay  seven  francs  for  a  bed  and  two 
things  he  called  bougies,  which  had  already  served,  and  will  no 
doubt  serve  again  (their  own  master,  j'entend) — the  useful  little 
things.  This  maximum  arrangement,  however,  I  rather  think, 
was  merciful.  In  short,  one  feels  that  one  lives,  moves,  and  has 
one's  being  here,  in  the  perpetual  nurture  and  admonition  of  the 
government. 

To  an  American,  accustomed  to  precisely  the  reverse  of  all 
this, — that  is,  to  every  man's  doing  just  as  he  pleases  in  all  that 
he  has  to  do,  as  if  he  had  no  account  to  give,  not  even  to  him 
that  pays  him,  yet  generally  doing  every  thing  perfectly  well, 
and  with  such  results,  in  the  long  run,  as  there  is  no  record  of 
in  the  history  of  human  affairs, — this  go-cart,  leading-string 
system  appears  very  strange  ;  and  it  is  for  Prussia  to  shew  (if  it 
can  be  shown)  that  its  effects,  on  the  whole,  are  really  not  dis- 
advantageous to  society.  Certainly  Elberfeldt  seems  a  com- 
mencement de  preuve  to  that  effect.  Meanwhile,  it  must  be 
owned,  that  if  every  thing  is  government,  every  thing  is,  for 
order  and  happiness  merely,  well  governed.  The  honorable 
fact,  that  this  is  a  highly  enlightened  and  m.oral  government, 
impresses  itself  upon  the  traveller  as  soon  as  he  has  had  time  to 
look  around  him  and  observe  the  most  superficial  phenomena. 

April  25.  I  am  not  ready  to  go  out  this  morning  until  half- 
past  7,  and  then  I  find  the  valet- de-place,  who  was  to  have  con- 
ducted me  to  Sans  Souci,  out.  After  waiting  some  time,  stroll 
forth.  Am  lodged  at  the  Einsiedler,  near  the  palace,  where  the 
king  happens  to  be  at  this  moment,  and  is  to  remain  until 
Wednesday.  Every  thing  military, — troop  of  lancers  composed 
of  men  in  the  flower  of  youth,  beardless  and  generally  fair, 
particularly  attract  my  attention.  Fine  new  church, — stone, — 
surmounted  with  a  cross:  Lounge  toward  the  water, — to  the 
bridge, — then  return  through  the  parks  of  the  palace,  where  the 
valet-de-place  overtakes  me.  I  am  and  have  been,  since  I  found 
I  had  lost  a  half  hour  and  had  my  projects  frustrated,  very 
bilious.  Tell  him  it  is  too  late,  and  I  should  go  to  Berlin  im- 
mediately after  breakfast ;  inwardly  resolved  to  do  no  such 
thing.  Take  my  tea  and  coolly  go  forth  with  the  said  laquais 
to  see  the  famous  little  chateau :  it  is  distant  about  a  mile  from 
the  town.     Begin  with  the  picture  gallery,  which  contains  about 


128  JOURNAL  OF  THE  RHINE. 

two  hundred  pictures.  More  Vandykes  than  I  ever  saw  alto- 
gether. A  likeness  of  some  Prince  of  Orange,  in  the  shape  of 
a  little  Cupid  skating  :  a  veritable  little  Love, — never  was  any 
thing  more  delightfully  beautiful.  Several  portraits  by  the 
same  great  master ;  one  a  chcval, — another  (admirable)  of  the 
sculptor  Fiamingo.  Many  Rubens';  some  in  his  daubing  style — 
especially  a  Susannah  (like  Charlotte  in  the  Werther  of  the 
Varietcs  at  Paris)  and  the  Elders, — never  saw  such  an  uncouth 
monster  as  the  woman  :  but,  en  revanche,  some  very  fine,  though 
none  to  be  compared  with  those  at  Antwerp.  Among  these  L 
remark  particularly  an  Adoration  of  the  Magi,  and  a  picture 
of  Rubens  himself,  surrounded  by  all  his  wives  and  his  friends  : 
very  pretty.  The  finest  picture  in  the  collection  is  a  sleeping 
Venus  by  Titian.  Homer  says  of  something  that  it  is  "softer 
than  sleep" — if  you  want  to  feel  what  that  means,  look  at  this 
picture.  It  is  very  queer,  but  true,  that  this  melting  repose 
reminded  me  of  Taglioni's  dancing.  From  this  picture  gallery, 
(which,  I  forgot  to  say,  is  about  two  hundred  and  thirty  feet 
long  and  very  fine,  with  gilt  cornices,  etc.,)  I  went  to  the  little 
chateau  of  Sans  Souci.  The  building,  it  seems,  was  divided 
between  the  royal  host,  who  lived  in  the  right  wing,  and  his 
literary  friends,  who  occupied  the  left.  A  desk  is  pointed  out 
at  which  Voltaire  used  to  write.  In  the  king's  apartment  there 
is  no  bed.  It  seems  he  died  in  an  arm  chair.  My  valet  swore 
to  me  the  clock  points  now  to  the  very  hour  at  which  he  died  ; 
for  it  went  down  as  the  breath  left  his  body.  Always  some 
marvel  for  the  vulgar.  His  library  was  an  object  of  particular 
curiosity  to  me.  It  contains,  so  far  as  I  could  discover  after  a 
pretty  close  examination,  nothing  but  French  books, — that  is, 
books  in  French, — for  all  the  classics,  Polybius,  Suetonius,  Vir- 
gil, etc.,  were  translated,  as  were  Macchiavelli  (two  copies),  Don 
Q,uixotte,  etc.  Most  of  them  are  historical  works, — treatises  of 
the  art  of  war,  diplomatic  correspondence.  A  book  in  quarto 
was  lying  open  upon  the  table  ;  the  running  title  (as  the  printers 
call  it)  was  "Epitres  Familiere?  It  was  very  dirty  at  the  page 
I  saw,  and  had  the  appearance  of  having  been  much  thumbed. 
It  is  said  to  be  just  as  it  was  left.  There  is  a  MS.  correction  of 
a  verse  by  Voltaire,  in  a  fine,  legible  hand.  The  king  had 
written  (and  printed)  "Chiche  de  mots  mais" — Voltaire  substi- 
tuted "de  mots  avare".  This  was  what  he  called  "blanchir  le 
linge"  of  the  great  Frederick.  The  view  from  the  front  of  the 
chateau  is  very  beautiful.  I  had  not  time  to  go  to  the  "new 
palace",  and  I  am  tired  of  palaces,  and  was  fatigued  with  my 
walk,  and  so  returned  to  the  Einsiedler,  where,  in  half  an  hour, 
I  get  into  my  post-chaise  and  am  off  for  Berlin. 

On  my  way  (before  I  got  out  of  the  town)  I  passed  an  open 
carriage,  in  which  I  thought  I  recognised  Lord  Wm.  Russell, 


JOURNAL  OF  THE  RHINE.  129 

whom  I  had  seen  once  at  Court  at  Brussels,  with  a  lady  by  his 
side.  Soon  after  I  meet  the  Crown  Prince ;  and,  after  a  few 
minutes'  interval,  Prince  Frederick,  followed  by  the  Princess  in 
an  open  carriage  and  four. 

The  road  continues  wholly  uninteresting  and  the  country 
barren.  I  arrived  here  (Berlin)  at  about  3  o'clock,  and  took 
lodgings  at  the  Ville  de  Rome.  Immediately  after,  go  to  the 
table  d'hote  and  dine.  After  dinner,  walk  out  to  take  a  general 
view  of  the  town.  See  the  greater  part  of  the  objects  mentioned 
by  Reichard,  in  the  course  of  a  two  hours'  promenade.  No 
opera  to-night ;  so  fain  to  come  in  and  amuse  myself  with 
writing  this  log-book.  My  virtu  having  been  awakened  by  the 
gallery  of  Sans  Souci,  I  take  out  of  my  port-folio  my  sweet 
little  friend  Emma  S's.  souvenir,  a  copy  of  the  Cena  of  Leon- 
ardi  da  Vinci,  and  gloat  for  some  time  upon  its  beauties. 

The  street  in  which  I  lodge  is  the  great  thoroughfare  of  the 
city  in  its  most  fashionable  quarter,  and  is  bisected  by  a  public 
walk  bordered  with  trees,  whence,  probably,  its  name,  unter 
den  Linden. 

I  have  read  in  my  carriage  the  second  volume  of  Balzac's 
livre  Mystique,  which,  although  it  shews  the  author  to  be  un- 
doubtedly a  man  of  talent,  does  not  please.  It  is  a  wild  story, 
intended  to  illustrate  Swedenborg's  nonsense.  Also  Madame 
d'Abrantes'  Memoires  sur  la  Revolution, — a  childish,  confused, 
though  cleverish  and  interesting  piece  of  tittle-tattle.  The  style 
is  colloquial  and  sometimes  not  quite  de  bonne  compagnie.  She 
repeats  the  same  stories  over  and  over  again, — rambles  from  her 
subject  perpetually, — and,  at  the  end  of  the  second  volume,  is 
only  at  the  beginning  of  her  task.  Avis  au  lecteur.  Madame 
d'Angouleme  is  (and  deservedly)  her  heroine ;  Bonaparte,  her 
hero, — peut-etre.  The  book,  though  purporting  to  blame  the 
anti-liberal  conduct  of  the  Restoration,  and  that  unsparingly, 
seems  to  be  written  with  an  eye  to  a  possible  re-restoration,  and 
if  it  is  to  be  relied  on,  it  is  hard  to  imagine  a  dirtier  gang  of 
ribalds  in  high  places  than  those  who  surrounded  the  Emperor 
of  the  French.  She  treats  Talleyrand  with  unmeasured  and 
most  merited  contempt, — in  words,  at  least, — Fouche  also  ;  but 
it  is  hard  to  say  whom  she  excepts  from  the  charge  of  treachery, 
unless  it  be  the  Duke  de  Bassano.  If  she  is  to  be  relied  on, 
Bonaparte  had  completely  lost  his  head  when  he  returned  from 
Elba ;  and  still  more  completely  all  the  prestige  of  his  fortune 
and  name.  To  think  of  his  dawdling  in  Paris  to  put  on  em- 
broidered shoes  or  slippers  and  a  coronation  robe  at  the  Champ 
de  Mai,  instead  of  rushing  forward  to  the  frontiers !  Would 
Caesar  have  done  so  ?  He  wanted  to  be  sure  that  he  was  still  a 
monarch, — the  bourgeois  gentilhomme  and  his  robe-de-chambre. 
vol.  i.— 17 


130  JOURNAL  OF  THE  RHINE, 

Ney's  conduct,  according  to  her  account,  was  madness  or  total 
want  of  moral  sense.  She  is  in  love  Avith  Metternich.  I  should 
judge  her  to  be  spiriiuelle,  but  very  foolish.  There  is  a  pathetic 
story  of  a  woman  taken  in  adultery  and  shut  up  for  mad,  really 
well  told. — Another  book  I  never  read  before,  and  of  which  1 
have  read  a  great  deal,  is  Johnson's  "Lives  ot  the  Poets."  Dr. 
Johnson  is  a  horribly  bad  writer.  His  artificial  periods  and  his 
pomposity  of  phrase  to  express  the  baldest  common-place,  are 
insupportable  to  me.  Yet  his  criticism,  in  every  thing  that  does 
not  soar  above  a  certain  heighj,  is  usually  very  sensible.  For  the 
sublime  or  the  pathetic,  he  had  neither  soul  nor  ear  to  compre- 
hend them.  Nothing  can  be  more  uuworthy  of  the  mighty 
theme,  than  his  way  of  treating  Milton,  except  his  superficial 
notes  on  Shakspeare.  From  his  praise  of  Pope's  Homer  as  a 
translation, — his  significant  insinuation  that  the  best  scholars 
have  more  pleasure  in  reading  the  "blind  old  man",  so  perverted, 
(the  translation  is  a  good  English  poem,  but  — )  than  in  his 
own  matchless  verse, — and  his  absurd  remarks  on  "Samson 
Agonistes"  and  Greek  tragedy, — I  shrewdly  suspect  the  Doctor 
was  no  Greek  scholar  at  all ;  nay,  I  am  sure  of  it.  Latin,  I 
dare  say,  he  knew  to  a  certain  extent, — prosody  especially, — but 
for  deep  learning,  he  had  none.  His  talent  is  colloquial, — inge- 
nious argument,  quick  turns  of  thought,  ready,  pointed,  witty 
repartee,  clothed  frequently  in  metaphor  which  looks  like  rea- 
soning, and  does  often  bear  a  great  abundance  of  maxims  and 
of  moralities,  uttered  with  oracular  solemnity,  even  when  rather 
trivial, — and  withal  a  taste  for  elegance,  though  false,  and  a 
lively  but  not  a  sublime  fancy, — these  qualities,  aided  by  very- 
considerable  and  various  literature,  and  by  an  invincible  confi- 
dence in  himself  and  a  most  dogmatical  surperciliousness  in 
regard  to  other  people,  account  for  his  prodigious  celebrity  in 
that  day  of  talkers  and  clubs,  and  will  secure  to  him  a  certain 
(greatly  curtailed,  no  doubt)  reputation  with  posterity.  But  he 
is  in  his  true  element  when  he  speaks  of  Dryden, — Milton  was 
above  his  pitch.  He  had  not  as  much  heart  as  head,  and  not 
as  much  soul  as  heart,  and  is  never  either  very  original  or  very 
profound. 

Tuesday,  April  26.  I  passed  the  whole  day,  until  the  dining 
hour  here,  (3  o'clock,)  in  the  Museum,  which  was  erected  so 
lately  as  1826.  The  ground  floor  is  appropriated  to  the  statuary. 
The  picture-gallery,  if  1  may  use  the  expression,  is  arranged  on 
a  new  principle.  [Teick  made  the  catalogue  of  the  statues  ;  I 
don't  know  whether  he  was  consulted  as  to  the  disposition  of  the 
pictures.]  They  are  divided  into  a  great  number  of  different 
compartments,  intended  to  illustrate  the  different  schools  and 


JOURNAL  OF  THE  RHINE.  131 

the  progress  of  the  art, — Venetian,  Flemish,  etc.  In  this  point 
of  view  the  gallery  is  extremely  interesting  to  an  amateur,  and 
the  collection  very  precious,  as  it  is  very  extensive. 

Dine,  by  way  of  curiosity,  again  at  a  table  d'hdte.  Only 
"mine  host"  and  two  guests, — very  respectable  persons ;  one 
saluted  the  other  (an  aged  person,  with  good  manners)  as  M.  le 
President.  Scanty  and  ordinary  dinner, — served  from  another 
room  by  a  dish  at  a  time. 

After  dinner  Sir  G.  Hamilton  sends  me  word  he  will  call  at  6. 
Accordingly  does  so.  Gives  me  a  horrid  account  of  old  Sir 
Robert  A's.  conduct  as  British  ambassador ;  servile  court  to  Car- 
lists, — studious  avoidance  of  all  liberals,  —kept  out  of  the  way 
of  our  old  friend,  Count  Joseph  de  Bail  let,  Belgian  envoy,  who 
I  know  counted  very  much  on  Sir  Robert's  countenance  in  a 
strange  place.  Regrets  Brussels,  which  he  thinks,  as  I  do,  the 
pleasantest  residence  after  Paris.  Berlin  dull ;  one  reception 
a  year,  and  only  one,  at  Court, — after  that,  all  over.  Fortunately 
he  (Sir  G.)  was  in  time  for  that. 

Takes  me  to  the  King-street  theatre,  where  he  sets  me  down. 
They  give  the  Barber  of  Seville,  and  a  Cantatrice  from  Vienna 
plays  Rosina.  Detestable  exhibition. — which  sends  me  home 
in  the  course  of  an  hour.  N.  B.  The  spectacle  begins  here  at  6 
and  ends  at  9.     Dine  at  2  and  sic  de  similibus. 

Took  up  Balzac's  "Pere  Goriot"  this  afternoon,  and  found  it 
so  interesting  that  I  laid  it  down  with  regret,  and  hasten  to  re- 
sume it.     Read  till  11. 

Wednesday,  April  27.  Before  I  am  out  of  my  bed-room, 
some  one  knocks  at  the  door.  I  open  it  and  see  a  little  laquais 
in  livery,  who  asks  me  if  I  be  "Herr  Legare",  and,  on  receiving 
the  right  answer,  proceeds  to  invite  me,  in  the  name  of  M.  An- 
cillon,  (to  whom  I  had  a  letter  from  my  friend  d'Arnin,  Prussian 
minister  at  Brussels,)  to  dine  with  him  to-day  at  3.  The  hour, 
as  well  as  the  form  of  the  invitation,  (verbal  and  without  carte 
de  visit,)  rather  surprises  me  ;  but  heard  from  Hamilton,  yester- 
day, that  the  old  minister  (he  is  past  70)  is  rather  an  original, 
and  so,  after  asking  the  boy  if  he  is  sure  of  the  hour  and  the 
occasion,  I  accept. 

On  coming  out,  receive  an  invitation  from  Count  Joseph  de 
Baillet  to  dine  on  Sunday  or  Monday,  as  may  best  suit  my  con- 
venience, he  being  engaged  every  day  till  then.  My  arrange- 
ments compel  me  to  be  off  before  Sunday,  and  so  I  have  to 
decline.  I  express  to  M.  de  Baillet  the  very  sincere  regret  with 
which  this  necessity  inspires  me,  and  the  strongest  wish  to  see 
him  in  person.     Sends  me  word  he  will  call  at  half-past  11. 

Presently  after  Hamilton  writes  me  a  note,  informing  me  that 
Lord  William  Russell,  to  whom  I  was  to  have  made  a  visit  to- 


132  JOURNAL  OF  THE  RHINE. 

day,  will  be  too  much  occupied  with  business,  (his  courier  goes,) 
but  requests  I  will  dine  with  him  to-morrow  enfamille,  that  he 
may  have  a  better  opportunity  of  making  my  acquaintance.  I 
suspect  a  mistake  of  to-morrow  for  to-day. 

This  is  a  great  religious  fete  of  some  sort  or  other,  and  I  am 
curious  to  attend  divine  service  in  the  cathedral  of  this  city,  but 
fear  my  arrangements  will  not  permit  it. 

Before  I  go  out,  M.  de  Baillet  comes  in.  Expresses  his  regret 
that  I  cannot  dine  with  him.  It  is  his  intention,  he  says,  to 
return  to  Brussels  at  all  events  in  the  month  of  June.  Wanted 
to  go  to  Vienna  in  May,  but  requested  by  his  Court  to  remain 
here.  Supposes  it  is  on  account  of  the  Duke  of  Orleans'  visit, 
which  he  thinks  (as  it  is)  quite  an  event.  Says  the  King  of 
Prussia  has  acted  towards  him  (M.  de  B.)  like  a  parfait  honnete 
homme, — having  told  him  at  his  reception  that,  of  course,  the 
Belgian  revolution  gave  him  great  pain,  but  that  it  was  now  a 
fait  accompli,  in  which  he  had  bound  himself  to  acquiesce,  and 
would  do  so  in  good  faith, — adding  that  he  would  go  further 
and  say  that,  if  the  whole  controversy  had  not  been  already  set- 
tled, the  fault  was  not  the  Belgian  government's  but  the  King 
of  Holland's.  I  told  him  I  was  to  dine  at  M.  Ancillon's  :  said 
he  was  glad  to  hear  it,  and  had  no  doubt  the  old  minister  would 
wish  to  have  my  opinion  on  the  state  of  affairs  in  Belgium  ; 
advertised  me,  therefore, — after  remarking  that  the  whole  policy 
of  this  government  was  cautious  and  even  timid,  and  directed 
to  the  preservation  of  the  status  quo  at  all  events, — that  they 
suspect  the  Belgian  people  of  a  propensity  to  France,  which  you 
know,  says  he,  does  not  exist :  should  be  glad  if  I  would  contri- 
bute to  rectify  this  error.  Tell  him  I  shall  not  fail  to  do  so  if 
occasion  serve,  especially  as  it  were  only  telling  a  truth.  Says 
the  king  is  determined  to  receive  the  French  princes  with  all 
possible  distinction,  but  that  his  sons — especially  the  prince 
royal — will  do  their  part  very  much  a  contrecceur.  Recommends 
to  me  by  all  means  to  visit  Charlottensberg,  and  not  to  miss  see- 
ing the  mausoleum  of  the  queen,  and  the  statue  of  her  majesty 
by  a  sculptor  who  had  been  her  valet,  and  whose  talents  for 
drawing,  etc.,  being  accidentally  revealed  to  her,  she  had  him 
sent  to  Rome  to  study  his  art,  where  he  became  one  of  the 
greatest  masters  in  it.  There  he  executed  this  monumental 
statue  of  his  royal  patroness  after  her  death, — a  first-rate  like- 
ness,— which,  after  many  adventures,  (it  was  captured  by  a 
Barbary  corsair  and  redeemed,)  at  length  arrived  at  its  destina- 
tion. 

Hamilton,  by  a  note,  informs  me  the  error  I  suspected  in  his 
invitation  did  in  fact  exist,  and  that  both  he  and  Lord  William 
being  engaged  to-morrow,  we  must  adjourn  over  our  expected 
symposium  for  the  present. 


JOURNAL  OF  THE  RHINE.  133 

Go  out  to  see  the  churches,— the  cathedral  first.  Pretty  church 
in  modern  (and  Protestant)  style  :  vaulted  roof,  pillars.  Observed 
the  altar  adorned  by  three  pictures,  a  crucifix  and  two  wax- 
lights.  Learn  that  the  preservation  of  these  ornaments  was  a 
part  of  the  arrangement  by  which  the  government  reconciled 
the  differences  of  the  Lutherans  and  the  "reformed",  and  so  that 
they  exist  in  all  the  churches.  Ascend  the  belfry  (not  very 
high)  whence,  under  a  perfectly  clear  sky,  a  fine  view  over  the 
town.  The  great  bell  is  400  years  old,  and,  when  rung,  is  made 
to  discourse  its  music  by  rather  a  clumsy  contrivance :  one  man 
above  swings  it,  while  another  by  its  side  catches  the  clapper  as 
it  comes  with  his  hands  and  forces  it  into  contact  with  the  brass 
above,  then  lets  it  fall  upon  the  lower  side. 

This  church  contains  the  monuments  of  the  Margrave  of 
Brandenburg,  who  secularized  his  dominions  at  the  Reformation, 
and  of  three  of  the  kings  of  Prussia, — not  the  great  Frederick's, 
who  is  buried  at  Potsdam.     The  royal  pew  is  here  in  a  gallery. 

Went  thence  to  the  old  church  of  St.  Nicholas,  just  before  the 
service  began.  I  could  see  through  a  glazed  window  from  the 
corridor  what  existed  or  was  passing  within  the  church.  Very 
antique  affair,  built  of  brick.  Service  began  at  2  with  a  hymn, 
sung  principally  by  a  choir  in  a  gallery,  with  accompaniment  of 
organ.  After  waiting  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  obliged  to  retire  to 
dress  for  M.  Ancillon's  dinner  at  3.  First  put  on  boots,  accord- 
ing to  our  fashion  at  Brussels  ;  but,  fearing  lest  there  might  be 
ladies  and  a  different  rule  here,  and  being  an  entire  stranger, 
think  it  safer  to  go  in  shoes.  Do  so  and  repent ;  no  woman- 
kind and  every  body  in  boots.  Arrived,  am  trotted  through 
several  apartments  au  premier  (including  the  dining-room)  to 
the  salon  of  "His  Excellency."  Surprised  at  first  sight  of  a 
stout,  hale  looking  man,  whom  I  should  have  judged  to  be  about 
fifty-eight  or  sixty,  had  I  not  been  informed  how  much  was  to 
be  added  to  that  chiffre.  Rises  as  I  enter, — receives  me  very 
politely  and  with  an  apology  for  having  taken  the  liberty  to 
invite  me  so  unceremoniously,  but  that  the  multiplicity  of  his 
engagements  made  it  necessary  he  should  seize  the  first  oppor- 
tunity, etc.,  etc.  I  tell  him  I  am  very  fortunate  in  seeing  him 
in  a  way  that  will  enable  me  to  see  more  of  him,  etc.  There 
was  a  Baron  somebody,  secretary  of  legation  at  Copenhagen, 
who  was  just  about  to  return  to  his  post ;  a  Professor  Michelet 
of  this  University  ;  a  young  French  painter  from  Metz,  (very 

clever  and  agreeable  youth) ;  a  Mr. ,  the  host  and  myself. 

I  see  Arnin  has  given  him  a  very  particular  account  of  me  : 
knows  I  am  from  the  South, — that  I  have  read  Schiller,  study 
history  laboriously,  and  am  an  amateur  of  Greek  literature. 
Talk  of  Belgium,  in  which  I  say  almost  all  I  have  to  say  on 
that  subject  in  a  few  words.     M.  A.  remarks  on  the  singularity 


134  JOURNAL  OF  THE  RHINE. 

of  the  fact  of  Belgium's  coming  out  of  the  twenty  years  of 
French  contact  and  domination,  quite  uncontaminated  in  reli- 
gion. I  tell  him  it  was  what  had  struck  me  most  forcibly  at 
first, — that,  with  all  foreigners,  I  had  been  led  to  regard  the 
Belgians  as  an  inferior  sort  of  French,  while,  on  the  contrary, 
there  was  hardly  any  resemblance  between  them,  even  in  Hain- 
ault  and  Brabant,  and  none  at  all  in  the  Flemish  country  ;  and, 
of  a  French  party,  some  noisy  individuals  about  Mons,  etc., 
constituted  the  whole.  The  King  of  Holland  had  lost  his 
throne  by  not  seeing  this  palpable  truth  :  he  was  haunted  by 
the  idea  of  a  reunion  (as  it  is  called)  with  France,  and  in  try- 
ing to  counteract  that  imaginary  tendency,  wounded  and  revolt- 
ed all  the  national  sensibilities  of  this  people,  so  singularly 
wedded  to  their  usages  and  traditions,  that  they  have  made  two 
revolutions,  not  to  change,  but  to  preserve  them. 

At  dinner — a  little  tea-table,  scarcely  large  enough  to  allow 
elbow  room  to  the  six  guests.  Service  and  furniture  very  sim- 
ple and  ordinary,  a  maitre-d'hotel  and  two  other  serving-men. 
Nothing  on  the  table  but  a  plate  of  oranges,  two  of  sugar  plums, 
of  various  sorts,  and  one  other — about  a  centre  piece — it  was,  I 
really  forget  what.  Very  frugal  dinner  served  from  a  side- 
board. I  began  with  the  bouillie,  (which  was  the  second  dish, 
the  first  I  did  not  recognize,  and  so,  with  my  horror  of  all  stran- 
gers, did  not  touch,)  next,  asparagus — next  a  supreme  de  volaille, 
or  volaille  of  some  other  sort  aux  champignons,  followed  by  Jish. 
Then  hare — with  a  cake,  and  a  jelly — and  there,  I  think,  was 
the  whole  dinner.  Good  enough  for  me,  however, — who  in  eat- 
ing, as  in  other  things,  video  meliora  proboque, — deteriora  se- 
quor.  Conversation  of  arts,  music,  literature.  Find  M.  Ancil- 
lon  very  agreeable,  clever,  enlightened  and  well-read — with  great 
douceur  and  kindness  of  manner,  and  an  ardent  love  of  talk, — 
for  I  know  my  own  by  instinct.  Speaks  of  Roman  metaphysics 
as  studiously  and  systematically  unintelligible:  contrasts  it  with 
the  French  style, — repeating  the  "what  is  not  clear,  is  not 
French," — hence  the  language  of  diplomacy,  beaucoup  parler 
sans  rien  dire, — saying  much  without  appearing  to  make  a 
mystery  of  it,  say  I,  etc.,  etc.  Talk  of  history.  I  remark  that 
to  write,  or  even  to  appreciate  history,  perfectly,  one  must  have 
lived  in  the  world,  and  even  been  engaged  in  public  affairs. 
M.  Ancillon  assents,  but  the  literary  men  cry  out  against  what 
so  trenches  upon  the  privileges  of  their  caste.  This  leads 
to  a  long  discussion  of  Herodotus,  Sallust,  Tacitus  and  Julius 
Caesar,  and  the  Lord  knows  what.  M.  Ancillon  takes  occa- 
sion to  say  to  me,  "M.  d'Arnin  tells  me  you  cultivate  Greek 
a  good  deal."  I  answer,  rather  confused,  as  I  always  am,  I 
know  not  why,  when  allusion  is  made  to  my  studies  of  that 
kind, — that  I  am  a  mere  amateur,  and  amuse  myself  in  that 


JOURNAL  OF  THE  RHINE.  135 

way  in  my  leisure  moments.  Whereupon,  some  one  says  he 
did  not  know  people  took  an  interest  in  Greek,  in  America.  I 
tell  him  as  much  as  any  where  else,  except,  perhaps,  Germany. 
"But  England,"  says  another.  I  am  left  to  think,  say  I,  from 
all  that  I  know  of  English  scholarship,  that  it  is  rather  super- 
ficial. "But  see  how  they  quote  Latin  in  Parliament."  Horace 
and  Juvenal,  I  reply, — some  of  the  Augustan  authors  and  their 
school  books, — and  that,  too,  merely  for  rhetorical  purposes, — 
"to  draw  a  moral,  or  to  point  a  tale", — nothing  more.  I  have 
seen  an  excellent  scholar,  bred  in  England,  to  whom  Tacitus 
was  Greek.  Then  a  discussion  of  Tacitus'  Latinity.  I  assert 
that  every  one,  accustomed  only  to  the  Latinity  of  the  Juve- 
nal sera,  would  be  embarrassed  at  the  first  reading  of  that 
historian,  and  cite  the  "spatium  exemplum"  of  the  life  of  Agri- 
cola — a  use  of  example  that  occurs  elsewhere  in  his  works,  and 
no  where  in  those  of  Cicero,  or  any  writer  of  the  Augustan 
Eera.  Another  discussion  thereupon.  "None  speak  English  with 
purity,  in  America."  All  things  considered,  with  surprising  pu- 
rity, though  some  provincialisms,  many  archaisms,  and  an 
almost  and  universal  tendency  to  a  nasal  twang, — which  I  at- 
tribute, in  a  good  degree,  to  the  puritan  habits  of  our  ancestors, 
and  the  cant  of  all  sectarians — a  thing,  remarked  not  only  in  our 
English  fathers  at'  home,  but  among  devout  orders,  cloisters, 
etc.  Conversation  turns  on  M.  de  Savigny,  who,  I  regret  to 
learn,  is  not  in  Berlin,  it  being  a  vacation.  M.  Ancillon  says, 
excellent  as  his  works  are,  his  lectures  are  still  better  ;  delivered 
with  a  charming  ease,  grace  and  clearness,  and  giving  you  the 
idea  of  a  man  who  is  quite  above  the  subject  he  treats  of,  and 
makes  a  pastime  of  it.  I  tell  him  it  is  just  the  impression  made 
on  me  by  his  famous  History  of  the  Roman  Law  in  the  Middle 
Ages.  Speak  of  his  general  doctrine,  and  that  of  the  historical 
school,  in  opposition  to  Abbe  Sidyes*  constitution  on  mathemati- 
cal or  astronomical  principles.  Profess  myself  of  that  school 
hautement.  Say  the  merit  of  Tocqueville's  book  consists  in 
his  being  the  only  foreigner,  except  Heeren,  who  has  seen  that 
republicanism  is  the  primordial  law  and  condition  of  American 
society,  and  that  our  revolution  was  merely  external  and  con- 
fined to  the  question  of  sovereignty,  and,  chiefly,  executive 
power ;  in  short,  that  tout  ce  qui  est  republique  has  always 
been  so, — brought  with  them  by  our  founders, — and  only  what 
is  federal  is  new.  Much  more  said  of  this.  Mention  Elberfeldt, 
and  tell  him  the  impression  it  had  made  on  me,  that  it  resembled 
a  flourishing  American  town.  "I  hear  it  looks  like  an  English 
town."  "More  American,"  say  I;  "for,  after  all,  in  English 
towns  there  are  always  some  unwashed  holes  and  corners,  the 
filthy  retreats  of  wretchedness,  or  rotting  relics  of  the  past, — 
whereas,  with  us,  all  is  hope  and  vigor."     "One  might  know  you 


136  JOURNAL  OP  THE  RHINE. 

to  be  an  American  by  this  admiration  of  what  is  new?  said  one 
of  my  neighbors  ;  "whereas  many  persons  here  admire  a  thing 
the  more  for  an  antique  and  ruinous  air."  "In  its  place?  1  re- 
ply, "a  ruin  is  a  fine  thing, — on  the  Drachenfels,  for  instance, — 
mais  il  y  en  a  tout  partout  en  Europe ;  and  it  is  as  a  rarity  that 
I  admire  a  creation  like  Elberfeldt,  which  has  more  avenir  than 
past  in  it,  and  reminds  you  that,  after  all,  the  human  race  have 
not  seen  their  best  days, — as  Cicero  said  of  Catiline's  gang, — 
vixereP  The  minister  seizes  the  idea  and  heartily  assents,  par- 
rying the  ill-aimed  blows  of  my  not  very  quick-sighted  adver- 
sary. Apropos  of  ruins,  speak  of  the  chateau  of  Heidelberg,  to 
which  I  object  that  it  is  only  of  yesterday  ;  and  a  ruin,  like 
nobility,  ought  to  be  enveloped  in  the  nuit  des  temps.  An  arti- 
ficial ruin  is  as  bad  as  what  I  have  heard  called,  in  America,  "a 
made  gentleman."  Speak  of  the  prejudice  against  African  blood 
in  the  United  States.  At  5  take  leave.  M.  Ancillon  regrets  my 
stay  is  so  short,  and  apologises  again  for  having  invited  me  so 
unceremoniously.  Mr.  Wheaton  spoken  of  with  great  respect, 
and  said  by  the  secretary  of  legation  to  have  been  very  much 
regretted  there, — his  wife,  too, — is  she  a  distinguished  woman, 

says  M.  A.     "Oui c'est  une  bonne  femme."     That  is  too  true, 

thinks  I. 

It  is  worth  recording  that,  on  my  mentioning  what  Lord 
Brougham  had  said  in  my  presence,  viz  :  that  Talleyrand,  Roe- 
derer  and  Cambaceres,  all  agreed  Si  eyes  was  the  veritable  homme 
du  siecle, — M.  A.  cried  out  against  it ;  and,  speaking  of  his 
famous  pamphlet,  Qu'est  ce  que  le  Tiers  ?  he  and  the  professor 
assert  that  somebody  (I  forget  whom)  suggested  to  him  the  man- 
ner of  putting  the  question.  What  has  the  Tiers  been  ?  nothing. 
What  is  it  like?  what  ought  it  and  is  it  to  be?  everything: 
Which  is  the  sum  and  substance  of  the  whole  work. 

This  dinner  and  conversation  make  me  very  much  regret  the 
necessity  of  leaving  Berlin  so  soon.  I  leave  M.  Ancillon  with 
a  profound  respect  for  his  abilities,  and  a  great  prepossession  in 
favor  of  his  person  and  society,  although  he  is,  perhaps,  some- 
what ambitious  in  conversation.  After  dinner  to  Charlottens- 
berg,  about  a  league  from  the  fine  Brandenburg  gate.  You  pass 
through  a  wood  like  the  Bois  de  Boulogne,  before  you  arrive  at 
the  palace  and  its  garden,  and  which  is  traversed  by  the  Spree. 
There  is  a  chateau  (not  very  magnificent) — a  hot-house  of  great 
length,  filled  with  exotics.  Then  there  are  groves  now  resound- 
ing with  the  voices  of  nightingales  on  every  bough ;  and  that 
sweet  stream  flowing  quietly  through  these  tranquil  recesses ; 
and  the  mausoleum  of  the  queen but,  to  my  eternal  mortifi- 
cation, I  find  that  I  am  debarred  from  all  access  to  the  interior, 
for  want  of  some  precautionary  arrangement  which  I  wist  not 
of,  and  so  have  not  made.     The  loss  is  irreparable, — yet  the 


JOURNAL  OF  THE  RHINE.  137 

depth  of  the  enjoyment  which  I  find  in  my  hour's  ramble  in 
these  shades,  under  such  a  delicious  evening  sky,  reconciles  me 
to  the  disappointment,  and  I  return  to  my  hotel  at  8  in  peace. 
Oest  tout  dire.  There  are  many  people,  it  being  a  fete  day,  and 
remark  that  one  sees,  in  all  places  of  public  resort,  individuals 
obviously  of  the  lowest  order, — that  is,  of  the  shabbiest  appear- 
ance. At  the  picture-gallery,  the  other  day,  I  saw  a  fellow  so 
dirty  and  ragged,  that  I  am  sure  a  French  sentinel  would  have 
driven  him  away  with  scorn  from  the  gates  of  the  Tuilleries, 
the  very  day  after  the  revolution  of  1830. 

Leipsic,  29th  April,  8  o'clock,  P.  M. 

1  arrived  here  just  now,  and,  after  applying  unsuccessfully  for 
lodgings  at  two  hotels,  (the  town  is  swarming  for  the  fair,)  1 
establish  myself  for  the  night  at  a  rather  shabby,  dirty-looking 
place,  called  the  Stadt-Wien. 

I  passed  yesterday  at  Berlin,  which  I  left  after  10  in  the  eve- 
ning,  in  a  very  unedifying  manner.  Indeed  I  did  nothing  that 
I  can  remember  but  lounge  for  an  hour  in  the  picture  gallery, 
and  pay  and  receive  some  visits.  I  called  on  Hamilton  at  his 
lodgings,  which  are  very  comfortably  and  prettily  fitted  up ;  he 
is  dans  ses  meubles,  and  was  not  a  little  proud  of  having  the 
opportunity  of  showing  them  to  one  who  will  report  on  them  at 
Brussels. 

After  dinner,  Lord  Wm.  Russell  calls  :  find  him  quiet,  unaf- 
fected and  gentleman-like, — very  English,  and  so  a  little  stiff 
and  angular.  Tells  me  M.  Ancillon  has  the  name  of  being 
rather  insincere  in  his  relations  with  the  corps  diplomatique, 
though  he  is  sure  the  imputation  is  not  just, — the  frequent  vacil- 
lations and  retractations,  that  have  occasioned  it,  being  caused 
by  the  absence  of  firmness,  or  consistency,  or  something  else  in 
the  Prussian  government,  whatever  that  is  and  wherever  it  may 
reside, — a  thing,  it  seems,  not  easy  to  decide.  The  king  is  get- 
ting old  and  loves  repose,  and  so  is  not  unwilling  to  be  freed  as 
much  as  possible  from  the  troubles  of  business, — though  with 
his  great  memory  he  is  very  firm  and  positive.  After  about  a 
half  hour's  conversation,  his  lordship  retires  with  regrets,  etc. 

•  Count  de  Bail  let  succeeds  him,  and  stays  with  me  until  I  am 
getting  ready  to  set  out. 

The  night  is  perfectly  bright  with  moonlight  and  fair  weather, 
but  it  is  excessively  cold, — my  servant  says  freezing. 

At  half-past  S,  I  arrive  at  Wittenberg,  and  alight  at  the  London 
tavern,  near  the  church  in  which  are  the  graves  and  pictures  of 
Luther  and  Melancthon.  After  shaving  and  drinking  tea,  I  go 
out  upon  the  (to  me)  most  interesting  excursion  of  the  sort  I  ever 
made,  accompanied  by,  beyond  all  comparison,  the  most  singular 
cicerone  that  ever  conducted  me.  He  was  an  excessively  small 
vol.  i.— 18 


138  JOURNAL  OF  THE  RHINE. 

man, — much  shorter  than  myself, — with  a  wo-begone  counte- 
nance, such,  I  thought,  as  beseemeth  a  sexton,  carried,  in  advance 
of  the  rest  of  the  body,  at  an  angle  of  45  from  the  back,  while, 
by  some  means,  natural  or  artificial,  but  quite  incomprehensible 
to  me,  he  took  the  longest  and  made  the  most  rapid  strides  ima- 
ginable. He  spoke  to  me  at  first  in  German,  but,  finding  that  he 
seemed  to  be  quite  an  fait  in  reading  the  Latin  inscriptions  on 
the  tombs  of  the  reformers,  I  asked  him  ih  that  language  if  he 
spoke  it.  He  answered  me  immediately  in  the  affirmative,  and 
went  off  full  gallop  in  a  style  worthy  of  Melancthon  himself, 
and  which  quite  surprised  me. — to  such  a  degree,  indeed,  that  I 
took  the  liberty  of  asking  him  who  he  was,  <n.c  <roSsv  si,  etc.  He 
told  me  he  was  a  man  of  letters,  it  being  found  necessary  that 
the  wdituus  of  those  interesting  edifices  should  be  so.  He  was 
charmed  to  find  how  perfectly  intelligible  my  pronunciation  was 
to  him, — which  he  said  was  very  often  not  the  case.  To  in- 
crease his  surprise,  I  told  him  I  was  an  American,  legationem 
apud  Belgarum  regem  nunc  obiens  ;  but  his  fluency  was  much 
greater  than  mine,  from  frequent  practice,  and,  what  is  still  more 
remarkable,  he  spoke  generally  with  the  greatest  ptirity,  and 
with  a  certain  swelling,  rhetorical  pomp  of  style,  like  the  pre- 
faces and  dedications  of  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries. 
When  I  complimented  him,  he  declined  the  honor  with  such 
phrases  of  studied  humility,  and  such  acknowledgments  of  the 
singularis  tua  humanitas  vir  amplissime,  et  doctissime,  etc. 
However,  like  other  Germans,  he  slights  quantity  :  e.  g.,  occur- 
red— with  the  second  short. — But,  for  Luther  himself,  (of  whom 
my  learned  beadle  is  a  prodigious  enthusiast,)  you  see  his  like- 
ness at  all  ages  here,  up  to  the  very  article  of  death.  The  ar- 
dent apostle  !  the  invincible  champion  !  the  audacious  icono- 
clast !  the  sage  and  serious  reformer  of  morals  and  opinion  ! — 
you  see  it  all  in  his  robust  form,  his  capacious  head,  his  square, 
broad  visage,  with  firm-set  under-jaw, — in  that  deep,  grave  coun- 
tenance, and  fixed  look,  etc.  The  inscription  on  his  tomb-stone 
in  the  church,  (a  little  oblong  slab  in  the  pavement,  covered  with 
a  sort  of  trap-door,)  merely  records  the  day  of  his  birth  and  that 
of  his  death  :  Melancthon's  the  same.  After  my  curiosity  had 
been  satisfied  here,  we  proceeded  to  the  monastic  building  in 
which  the  famous  Doctor  lived  and  lectured.  There  is  a  table 
at  which  he  sat, — an  old,  worm-eaten  wooden  slab,  bearing  its 
experience  upon  its  face  ;  then  the  professor's  pulpit,  from  which 
he  delivered  his  productions.  Likenesses  oi  the  two  princes  of 
Saxony,  Frederick  and  John,  accompany  those  of  Luther  and 
Melancthon,  both  here  and  at  the  church.  They  are  remarkable 
for  the  same  expression  of  deep,  solemn  earnestness,  befitting 
men  that  had  a  conviction,  and  a  conviction  to  fight  for.  I  told 
my  little  mystagogue  that,  standing  in  that  room,  I  felt  that  I 


JOURNAL  OF  THE  RHINE.  139 

was  in  templo  quodammodo  orbis  terrarum  libertatis, — at  the 
which  he  was  not  a  little  pleased.  In  the  first  room  are  the  let- 
ters Petr.  in  chalk,  (I  think,)— an  autograph  of  Peter  the  Great, 
another  mighty  founder.  To  preserve  it,  it  has  been  covered 
with  glass.  Here  is  a  book  in  which  pilgrims  inscribe  their 
names.  I  added  to  it  mine.  The  first  name,  in  the  first  volume, 
is  that  of  the  present  King  of  Prussia,  written  with  his  own 
hand.  That  reminds  me  that  Wittenberg  is  no  longer  Saxon, 
and  that  the  ashes  of  Luther  lie  in  what  may  be  called  foreign 
ground.  To  be  sure,  the  King  of  Saxony  is  a  Catholic,  and 
perhaps  it  is  fit  that  the  chief  of  Protestant  Germany  should 
have  the  guardianship  of  its  most  precious  and  sacred  shines. 

Potsdam,  Frederick,  Voltaire, Wittenberg,  the  unfortunate 

Elector,  Luther. — What  a  contrast.. 

Dresden,  1st  May. 

It  was  my  intention  to  have  stayed  somewhat  longer  at  Leip- 
sic,  and  I  had  accordingly  obtained  from  my  friend  Ticknor, 
(now  at  Dresden,)  and  presented  a  letter  to  the  famous  Herman, 
and  another  to  a  great  Saxon  jurist, — I  forget  whom.  But,  after 
walking  about  the  town,  filled  with  booths  and  wares  and  their 
venders,  and  its  charming  faubourgs  adorned  with  sweet  groves 
and  pleasure  gardens,  and  showing,  too,  hundreds  of  carriages 
and  other  vehicles,  covered  with  temporary  sheds,  my  impatience 
to  be  at  Dresden,  where  I  expect  letters,  and  my  desire  to  make 
the  most  of  my  short  time  overcome  me,  and  I  order  post-horses 
and  set  off  at  12  o'clock,  hoping  to  perform  the  day's  journey 
(only  fifty-two  English  miles)  in  ten  hours.  To  my  most  vexa- 
tious disappointment,  however,  I  do  not  arrive  until  half-past  1 
in  the  morning, — having  spent  rather  more  than  an  hour,  on  an 
average,  upon  each  German  mile.  The  night,  however,  was 
bright  with  a  moon  near  the  full,  though  exceedingly  cold  for 
the  season  ;  and,  as  my  anger,  "which  I  nursed  to  keep  it  warm", 
prevented  my  sleeping,  I  enjoyed,  or  rather  saw  that  I  might 
enjoy,  if  I  pleased,  the  pretty  drive  along  the  valley  of  the  Elbe, 
reflecting  now  the  beams  and  bright  face  of  the  moon,  and  now 
the  broad  shadows  of  cliffs  and  trees.  It  was  past  2  when  I  got 
under  the  cursed  sack  which  was  to  serve  for  both  sheet  and 
blanket,  and  half-past  8  in  the  morning  before  I  woke  in  my 
new  habitation,  Hotel  de  Saxe.  My  servant  had  been  ordered, 
over-night,  to  go  to  the  post-office  before  he  came  in  to  me  in  the 
morning,  and  accordingly  announces  that  there  are  two  big 
packets  for  me  there.  A  commissioner  is  dispatched  and  brings 
me  in  a  letter  from  Petigru,  enclosed  in  one  from  Vail,  and  an 
answer  from  M.  de  Muelnaere  to  a  letter  I  wrote  him,  on  leaving 
Brussels,  to  order  my  boxes  to  be  passed  without  examination  at 
Antwerp.     Find  that  Ticknor  lodges  very  near  me,  at  the  Stadt 


140  JOURNAL  OF  THE  RHINE. 

Rome.  Send  to  him  to  let  him  know  I  am  come.  He  sends  me 
word  he  will  call  as  soon  as  I  ean  receive  him,  and  accordingly 
comes  in  as  I  am  about  to  sit  down  to  my  toast  and  tea,  at  half- 
past  9.  Proposes  to  me  to  go  to  Court  with  him  at  12.  All  the 
world  to  be  there :  the  royal  family  being  about  to  go  elsewhere 
for  the  belle  saison,  and  holding  a  drawing-room  oVadieu.  I 
decline,  though  inclined  to  go.  Too  much  fatigued  to  put  on  a 
Court  dress,  which  I  took  the  precaution  to  bring  notwithstand- 
ing. Walk  out  at  11  to  the  Catholic  church,  where  high  mass 
is  celebrating.  The  royal  family  there.  Church  condemned 
for  bad  taste  by  connoisseurs  ;  showy  and  fresh  ;  built  by  Au- 
gustus III.  Thence  walk  on  the  bank  of  the  river  :  charming 
promenade  and  prospect, — a  decided  advantage  over  Brussels, 
this  said  stream, — by  which  one  may  descend  to  Hambro'.  But 
note  the  river  is  seen  to  its  greatest  advantage  now,  being  rather 
full :  in  a  few  weeks,  the  dry  weather  reduces  it  to  a  paltry 
stream,  winding  amid  pebbles.  There  is  the  advantage  of  the 
Rhine,  and  what  makes  it  incontestably  the  king  of  German 
floods.     There  is  a  noble  stone  bridge  here. 

Prague,  7th  May. 

During  my  stay  at  Dresden,  which  was  rendered  most  agree- 
able and  profitable  to  me  by  my  friend  Ticknor  and  his  amiable 
wife,  (for  without  them  it  was  impossible  I  should  have  turned 
my  time  to  so  much  account,)  I  had  not  a  moment's  leisure,  or 
at  least  inclination,  to  add  any  thing  to  these  notes.  Of  the  five 
days  I  passed  there,  I  dined  four  times  with  the  T's.,  and  once 
with  the  British  minister,  Mr.  Forbes,  son  of  Lord  Granard,  and 
(nephew  ?)  cousin  of  my  friends  the  Hastings'.  Apropos  of  din- 
ners, they  are  all  simple  in  Germany, — consisting  of  a  few  dishes, 
brought  on  in  succession.  At  Mr.  Forbes'  we  were  en  partie 
carree.  He  is  a  very  agreeable  man,  the  Ticknors  say  towards 
fifty, — 1  should  have  guessed  about  thirty-five, — true  Irish,  with 
a  brogue  subdued,  making  his  English  mouthy,  sans  f agon, 
gay,  and  intelligent  withal.  Shows  us  Palmerston's  protest 
against  the  doings  at  Cracow.  Well  put,  but  too  good  an  argu- 
ment for  a  man  that  means  action. 

The  first  day  being  Sunday,  I  could  only  lounge  in  a  Protes- 
tant country.  Having  dined,  we  went  out  in  Ticknor's  carriage 
to  a  sweet  garden  and  wood  in  the  neighborhood,  where  there 
was  music.  Then  home  and  took  tea.  Afterwards  to  Mr. 
Forbes',  and  thence  to  Count  Strogonoff's,  a  Russian  of  distinc- 
tion, married  to  a  Portuguese  of  the  family  of  Almeida,  now 
established  here.  They  receive  every  Sunday.  I  met  there 
with  M.  de  GouriefF,  some  time  ambassador  at  Brussels,  who 
made  many  inquiries  about  it.  He  is  a  regular  Russian  of  the 
heavy,  sensual  Slave  or  Calmuck  stamp.    M.  de  Strogonoff  looks 


JOURNAL  OF  THE  RHINE.  141 

more  like  a  Christian.  I  sat  down  by  Madame's  tea  table,  and 
talked  with  her  the  whole  evening.  She  asked  who  was  Portu- 
guese minister  at  Brussels  :  told  her.  What  sort  of  man  ?  Here 
I  was  tempted  to  /aire  V amiable  at  the  expense  of  my  colleague 
Da  Camera,  of  whom  I  was  going  to  make  a  caricature.  But 
my  better  feelings  triumphed,  and  it  was  well  they  did,  for  I  had 
scarcely  made  some  short  answer,  when  Madame  S.  added,  "he 
is  my  cousin." 

On  Monday  I  went,  at  half-past  9,  with  Ticknor,  to  the  famous 
Gallery,  through  the  various  divisions  of  which  we  wandered 
leisurely,  and  at  length  sat,  for  a  moment,  in  the  Italian  room : 
that  is,  the  room  of  the  RafFaelle  (Madonna  di  Santo  Sisto),  five 
Correggios,  three  Carlo  Dolce's,  etc.,  etc.  We  met  in  the  gallery 
an  Englishman,  who  appeared  to  be  a  perfect  connoisseur  and 
was  an  enthusiastic  admirer  ;  and  an  American,  whose  nativity 
I  suspected  not  by  his  accent,  but  by  his  pronouncing  the  gal- 
lery (before  he  had  penetrated  far  beyond  its  threshold,  too)  very 
much  below  its  reputation.  To  do  him  justice,  however,  I 
must  add  that,  when  we  met  with  him  afterwards  in  the  Italian 
room,  he  seemed  to  think  there  was  something  to  be  seen. 

I  visited  the  gallery  every  day  that  I  was  in  Dresden.  It  is 
remarkable  for  the  variety  as  well  as  the  value  of  its  treasures. 
All  the  masters  of  all  the  schools  are  represented  there,  among 
its  two  thousand  and  odd  pictures.  All  tastes,  therefore,  are 
gratified,  and  an  amateur  sees  the  manner  of  each  celebrated 
artist  exemplified  by  a  master-piece.  Not  only,  however,  the 
great  masters  are  there, — names  of  universal  renown, — but, 
amidst  the  blaze  of  the  constellations  are  smaller,  though  bright 
and  beautiful  lights,  which  one  passes  over  without  observing, 
at  first,  but  which  one  that  knows  the  gallery  well  points  out  to 
a  stranger,  and  which  afford  amusement  for  many  a  day  of  cu- 
rious study.  It  is,  especially,  in  these  well-chosen  little  pictures, 
scattered  with  the  greatest  profusion  over  its  walls,  and  in  its 
exemption  from  the  trash  that  makes  the  filling"  up  of  other 
collections,  that  its  peculiar  character  consists.  Add  the  Histori- 
cal Gallery,  the  Grime  Gewolbe,  the  Historical  (Antiquity)  Col- 
lection. 

Munich,  11th  May. 

Is  it  possible  ?  Four  days  gone  by  since  I  wrote  any  thing 
in  this  journal, — and  50  German  miles  (210  English)  passed 
over  !  The  consequence  of  this  rapid  change  of  place  is  that 
my  diary  is  turned  into  history — which  is  quite  a  different  thing. 

At  Dresden,  I  made  the  acquaintance  of  Retsch,  who  has 
illustrated  Faust,  etc.,  and  saw  his  Album.  The  drawings  very 
fine.  The  man  himself  struck  me  more  than  his  works.  He  is 
sur  Vag-e,  as  the  French  say, — but  has  remarkable  eyes,  light 


142  JOURNAL  OF  THE  RHINE. 

frey-blue,  which  he  looks  out  of  like  a  cat.  Ticknor  proposed 
should  hear  Tieck  read  a  play  of  Shakspeare.  He  is,  you 
know,  the  renowned  collaborateur  of  Schlegel  in  his  translation, 
and  is  famous  as  a  reader ;  but  once  he  begins  he  must  go  thro'. 
This  rather  alarmed  me,  yet  I  consented,  but  unfortunately  he 
was  ill. 

It  was  with  great  regret  that  I  left  this  fine,  intellectual,  fa- 
mous city,  on  the  evening  of  the  5th,  (at  7,)  on  my  way  to 
Prague,  which  I  did  not  reach  until  the  next  day  at  7  P.  M.! 
having  been  all  the  while,  except  an  hour  passed  at  Topliz  in 
shaving  and  breakfasting,  travelling  the  twenty  and  a  half  Ger- 
man miles  between  Dresden  and  that  place. 

I  arrived  at  the  frontier  between  12  and  1.  I  was  ordered 
out  of  my  carriage  to  see  the  commissary  of  police,  or  whoever 
he  was,  who  was  sitting  before  a  desk  in  a  small  room,  with  his 
night-cap  on  and  in  a  dressing-gown,  evidently  predisposed  to 
be  very  churlish  and  insolent.  I  looked  as  civil  as  I  could,  and 
proffered  my  passport,  asking  him  in  German  if  he  spoke  French. 
He  answered  :  on  which  I  remarked,  "das  is  Schlimm," — mean- 
ing, "for  me."  "Not  at  all,"  said  he,  "this  is  Germany."  The 
tone  with  which  this  was  said  discouraged  all  disposition  to 
sociability,  and,  after  waiting  (standing,  for  he  did  not  ask  me 
to  be  seated)  for  some  time,  he  gave  me  back  my  passport  and 
lighted  me  out  of  the  room ;  then,  having  given  some  order  to 
his  snppot  about  proceeding  to  examine  my  baggage,  adding 
vehemently  "it  is  midnight",  slapped  the  door  upon  us  and  re- 
tired. The  postillion  motioned  to  me  to  propitiate  my  examiner, 
into  whose  hand  I  slipped  a  rix-dollar,  at  the  same  time  quietly 
slipping  myself  into  my  carriage.  I  made  hardly  any  progress 
during  the  night,  losing  regularly  half  an  hour  at  least  at  each 
station.  It  was  soon  after  day-break  that  1  found  myself  on  the 
summit  of  the  mountain,  (Erz-Gebirge,)  from  which  you  look- 
down  upon  the  fatal  field  of  Culm — Bonaparte's  Ulnt — in  1813. 
There  are  three  pillars  erected  in  commemoration  of  that  deci- 
sive victory, — an  Austrian,  a  Prussian  and  a  Russian, — at  some 
considerable  distance  from  one  another.  The  prospect  from  my 
mountain  stand-punkt,  under  the  gray  light  of  the  morning, 
was  magnificent. 

After  driving  some  posts  farther,  I  arrived  at  Topliz,  and 
alighted,  for  the  purposes  already  mentioned,  at  the  "Stadt  Lon- 
don," where  it  is  worth  noticing  that  my  breakfast,  consisting  of 
bread  and  butter  and  eggs  with  tea,  cost  me  two  florins  Austrian  ; 
i.  e.,  about  five  francs  French, — the  iniquitous  publican  having 
added  to  what  others,  or  rather  more  than  others  of  his  class 
charge  for  this  simple  meal,  a  florin  for  the  use  of  the  small 
room  in  which  I  stopped  an  hour  to  eat  it. 

The  country  about  Topliz,  and  for  some  leagues  further,  1 


JOURNAL  OF  THE  RHINE.  143 

found  charming ;  and  I  have  a  fancy  to  pass  some  weeks  in  this 
valley,  enclosed,  or  rather  encadree  in  mountains,  seen  at  some 
distance.  The  beauties  of  the  spring  were  not  wanting,  but  a 
little  more  foliage  would  have  been  still  better. 

The  rest  of  my  drive  40  Prague,  through  a  hilly  tract  of 
country,  very  sterile  and  covered  with  moors, — reminding  me 
continually  of  some  parts  ot  Northumberland,  and  of  its  wan- 
dering gipsies,  (Bohemians,) — was  excessively  slow,  and  still 
more  fatiguing.  Still  I  did  not  regret  it,  for  there  is  something 
peculiar  in  this  wild  looking  region  ;  and  I  was  still  more  recon- 
ciled to  my  journey  and  jolting,  when  I  arrived  at  Prague,  which 
is  a  most  remarkable  city.  To  say  nothing  of  the  space  it  oc- 
cupies in  history,  that  which  it  covers  in  nature  is  quite  extra- 
ordinary. I  entered  it  by  a  gate  from  which  you  have  a  view 
over  the  whole  city,  which,  beginning  there,  runs  down  the  side 
of  a  mountain  so  steep  that  the  wheels  have  to  be  locked,  into 
the  Moldau,  a  rapid  and  wide  river,  which  is  rushing  to  lose 
itself  in  the  name  (for  it  is  the  thing)  of  the  Elbe.  The  part  of 
the  city  on  this  mountainous  side  of  the  river,  is  not  apparently 
more  extensive  or  populous  than  the  other,  but  struck  me  as 
more  busy  and  important.  The  streets,  or  rather  street,  from 
the  said  gate  to  the  bridge,  (a  very  long  one,  of  stone,  and  very 
massive,  adorned  with  statues  of  saints,  etc.,)  was  animated  with 
a  throng  not  unworthy  of  London.  (The  population  of  the 
city  is  said  to  be  110,000.)  On  the  same  side  of  the  water  is 
the  royal  palace,  in  a  wing  of  which  Charles  X.  and  his  family 
now  reside.,  The  archbishop's  residence  is  near  the  palace,  and 
so  is  the  cathedral,  which,  indeed,  makes  a  part  of  it.  These 
edifices  are  built  upon  the  highest  part  of  the  city,  and  hang 
sheer  over  it,  as  the  castles  of  feudal  lords  usually  did. 

The  morning  after  my  arrival,  I  appointed  to  sally  forth  at  7 
with  a  valet-de-place,  but  when  I  went  down  stairs  he  was  not 
visible,  and  so,  determined  to  disappoint  him  for  vexing  me,  I 
set  out  by  myself.  After  walking  in  a  great  market-place,  then 
filled  with  country  people,  and  its  neighborhood,  I  took  a  fiacre 
and  ordered  it  to  drive  to  the  church  of  St.  Nicholas  and  the 
cathedral.  The  former  was  on  the  same  side  of  the  river  with 
my  hotel,  ("The  3  Linden") — the  latter,  as  I  said,  makes  part  of 
the  royal  palace  in  the  upper  town.  These  churches  are  well 
enough,  but  do  not  strike  one  accustomed  to  those  of  Antwerp 
and  Cologne.  There  are,  however,  old  monuments  in  the  ca- 
thedral which  speak  of  the  past.  In  the  view  I  had  of  the  city 
from  the  eminences,  I  was  surprised  at  the  vast  multitude  of 
spires  and  steeples, — more  than  I  ever  remember  to  have  seen  in 
the  same  space, — and.  in  fact,  there  are  ninety-two  churches  and 
as  many  palaces  here.  The  king's  is  quite  a  town  of  itself, — 
with  its  appurtenances,  that  is.  It  contains  seven  hundred  apart- 


144  JOURNAL  OF  THE  RHINE. 

ments.  An  edifice  struck  me  as  I  was  returning,  and  at  the 
foot  of  the  height,  which  I  descended  another  way  than  by  the 
high  street, — I  asked  the  hack  driver  what  it  was.  "Wallen- 
stein's",  was  the  answer.  It  was  in  rather  a  modern  style,  not 
unlike  Talleyrand's  hotel  at  Paris,  though  on  a  smaller  scale. 

In  general,  the  appearance  of  Prague  is  very  unlike  that  of 
any  other  city  I  have  seen.  The  first  impression  it  makes  is 
decidedly  that  of  antiquity,  but  not  of  mere  antiquity,  like  the 
villages  in  North  Germany,  for  there  is  nothing  mean  or  shabby 
in  it,  but  of  historical  consequence  and  long  established  wealth. 
Such,  I  imagine,  must  be  the  air  of  Venice,  or  any  other  old 
Italian  capital. 

I  left  it  at  11  to  come  to  Munich,  from  which  it  is  distant  50^ 
German  miles,  (upwards  of  200  English  miles).  I  anticipated 
a  most  fatiguing  journey,  but,  to  my  great  surprise,  I  performed 
the  first  fourteen  posts  in  ten  hours, — more  rapid  travelling  than 
[  remember  any  where  else  in  Germany  for  the  same  distance. 
But  from  Pilsen  to  Ratisbonne,  where,  after  travelling  all  the 
night  of  the  7th-8th;— I  slept  that  of  the  8th-9th  (at  the  "3 
Helme") — I  went  slowly  enough.  To  be  sure  I  had  to  cross  the 
Bohmer  Wald, — and  a  wood  it  was.  When  we  were  laboring 
up  the  steep  ascent  between  Klentz  and  Wald  Munchen,  I  saw 
one  of  the  neighboring  peaks  still  covered  with  snow,  and  no 
longer  wondered  at  the  exceeding  cold  night  I  had  passed  in  my 
carriage,  or  at  the  eager  air  of  the  morning  :  but  the  weather, 
during  the  two  days  from  Prague  to  Ratisbonne,  was  beautiful 
beyond  expression.  The  cold  continues  still,  (11th  May) — in- 
deed snow  (some  flakes)  fell  here  this  morning,  nor  should  I  be 
surprised  to  see  more  to-morrow.  Every  body  is  complaining 
at  this  prolonged  winter,  though  the  vegetation  is  more  advanced 
than  one  would  expect  to  find  it  in  such  an  atmosphere. 

I  arrived  at  Ratisbonne  at  7,  (8th  May,)  and  immediately  sal- 
lied out  to  go  into  the  cathedral,  if  possible,  but  returned  disap- 
pointed. My  time  is  too  short  to  admit  of  my  staying  more 
than  a  few  hours  in  this  old  famous  city.  I  order  post-horses  at 
half-past  6  in  the  morning,  and,  rising  at  5,  (I  had  shaved  over- 
night,) I  go  out  as  soon  as  possible  and  see  the  two  things  I  was 
most  curious  about,  viz :  the  cathedral, — a  fine  Gothic  church, 
the  best  I  have  seen  since  I  left  the  Rhine, — and  the  river,  the 
Danube,  which  I  saw  for  the  first  time,  and  the  old  stone  bridge 
over  it.  The  stream,  or  rather  streams,  are  very  rapid  here,  and 
as  I  looked  at  it  bubbling  and  whirling  by  the  island,  below  the 
bridge,  covered  with  mills,  whose  wheels  are  turned  by  its  cur- 
rent, I  wondered  how  they  escaped  its  vengeance  during  what 
we  call  in  America  its  freshets.  But  precautions  have  been 
taken  to  break  and  control  the  flood  as  much  as  possible,  by  long 
jetees  of  stone,  etc.,  running  out  into  it  in  different  directions. 


JOURNAL  OF  THE  RHINE.  145 

I  forgot  to  say  that  at  Wald  Munehen,  while  I  was  waiting 
for  my  passport,  etc.,  a  paper  they  give  in  Bavaria  to  all  persons 
travelling  by  post,  called  an  Extra-post-St underpass,  (in  which 
are  recorded  who  you  are,  whence  you  come,  whither  you  go, 
at  what  hour  you  arrived  at  the  ustatiori'\  and  at  what  hour  you 
were  again  set  in  motion, — what  is  the  length  of  the  ustatiorC\ 
and  how  much  you  have  to  pay  for  it, — in  short,  a  very  precise 
and  comfortable  piece  of  information,  which  accompanies  you 
from  stage  to  stage  during  your  whole  progress,  with  the  requi- 
site accessions  at  every  relai^)  a  Frenchman  comes  down,  is  very 
comme  ilfaut,  civil,  salutes  and  tells  me  he  hears  I  am  a  French- 
man,— that  he  has  a  difference  with  the  Austrian  douaniers, 
though  his  passports  be  all  en  regie  and  he  have  letters  for 
persons  at  Prague, — that  he  had  written  to  M.  de  Montbel,  etc., 
etc.  When  he  hears  I  am  from  Brussels,  says  he  has  a  mind  to 
go  there  himself,  —that,  should  he  do  so,  he  would  go  to  see 
Madame  de  Me  rode.  "Do  you  know  Mad.  de  Merode  ?"  Yes, 
but  which  of  them  do  you  mean  ?  He  seems  rather  puzzled  by 
the  question,  but,  after  some  circumlocution,  gives  me  to  under- 
stand he  means  Countess  Henri,  —becomes  communicative  and 
confiding  ? — tells  how  he  had  made  an  ouvrage  maguifique  for 
some  part  of  the  Catholic  service,  but  that  his  mother,  who  is 
rich,  did  not  approve  it,  or  him,  or  something  :  elle  est  severe, 
ma  mere, — elle  me  tyrannise,  etc.  I  tell  him  if  he  is  a  maker 
of  such  sort  of  ouvrages,  he  is  just  the  man  for  M.  de  Merode, 
who  had  written  a  book  in  co-partnership  with  his  cousin,  the 
Marquis  de  Beaufort,  entitled  "L'esprit  de  vie  et  Pesprit  de  mort," 
highly  spiritual  and  especially  Catholic,  disapproving  even  Bos- 
suet  for  his  ideas  about  the  independence  of  the  temporal  power 
and  the  liberties  of  the  Gallican  church.  My  Frenchman  doesn't 
seem  familiar  with  such  things  ;  speaks  of  his  child,  which,  of 
course,  he  loves,  for  he  is  a  jils  unique,  and  whom  every  body 
at  Wald  Miinchen  loves  too, — says  his  happy  and  simple  (they 
are  the  same)  papa. 

It  is  Sunday.  The  streets  of  this  village,  as  of  one  I  passed 
the  day  before,  are  filled  with  people  gathered  as  to  a  fair. 
Young  men  with  flowers  (artificial)  in  their  hats,  children  and 
old  men. 

At  another  post-station,  there  was  a  multitude  of  country  wo- 
men looking  out  at  a  window, — then  music  and  waltzing.  The 
simplicity  of  these  mountaineers  contrasts  strangely  with  the 
manners  painted  by  Balzac  and  Paul  de  Kock,  whose  ni  Jamais, 
ni  Toujour 's,  I  have  read  ces  jours  ci,  I  found,  par  parenthese, 
less  immoral  in  their  tendency,  though  more  cynical  in  their 
paintings,  than  those  of  his  less  decried  contemporaries,  who 
pervert  the  head,  which  is  worse  than  exciting  the  senses. 

I  have  for  once  had  enough  of  mountains  and  woods,  and 
vol.  i. — 19 


146  JOURNAL  OF  THE  RHINE. 

begin  to  sigh  for  a  more  level  country, — for  I  travel  slowly,  and 
that  is  to  me  suffering. 

9th  May.  Leaving  Ratisbonne,  at  half-past  6,  in  the  morning 
of  the  9th  May,  I  passed  through  Landshut  on  the  Isar,  and 
along  its  pretty  valley,  to  Munich,  where,  however,  I  did  not 
arrive  until  a  quarter  past  9, — 16  meilen. 

Itith  May.  Taking  a  valet-de-place,  learn,  to  my  great  dis- 
appointment, that  the  picture-gallery  is  invisible.  They  are  just 
arranging  the  new  Pinakothek,  which  it  is  not  permitted  to 
enter.  Console  myself,  as  well  as  I  may.  at  the  Glyploihck, 
which  is  a  pretty  building  on  the  Konig's  Platz  in  the  Maxi- 
milian Suburb.  Having  bought  a  catalogue,  and  made  my 
remark  on  the  margin  of  it,  I  have  only  to  say,  in  general,  that 
it  is  an  extremely  interesting  collection, — arranged  with  skill, 
and  exhibited  to  the  best  possible  advantage  in  splendidly  and 
characteristically  decorated  halls,  lighted  by  windows  in  the 
roof.  I  passed  a  couple  of  hours  here, — all  that  was  allowed 
me,  for  it  was  shut  at  12,  and  is  not  opened  to-day,  it  being  re- 
served for  the  king, — and  confined  myself  principally  to  the 
Egyptian  compartment,  the  Antiques  and  Canova's  Venus  and 
Paris. 

At  2,  dined  at  the  table  flhote  of  the  Cerf  d'Or,  where  1  am; 
found  the  company  numerous  and  rather  good  ;  fare  detestable  ; 
as  Talleyrand  said  of  us,  leur  luxe  est  affreux.  This  German 
cookery  is  neither  simple  and  wholesome  like  the  English,  nor 
refined  and  delicious  like  the  French,  but  an  odious,  or  rather 
monstrous  deviation  from  the  one,  without  the  least  approach  to 
the  other. 

After  dinner,  I  went  out  again  with  my  valet-de-place.  Saw 
the  cathedral, — brick  building  some  300  and  odd  years  old,  with 
two  towers  covered  with  globular  roofs,  like  mustard  pots.  It 
contains  a  monument  in  bronze  of  the  Emperor  Louis  de  Ba- 
viere,  extremely  rich  and  well  executed. 

Thence  to  my  banker's  ;  and  then,  through  the  Isar  gate,  to 
a  promenade  on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  which  runs  along  its 
bank,  on  a  height  from  which  one  has  a  fine  view  of  the  whole 
city.  The  weather  fine,  but  excessively  cold.  The  Isar  gate  is 
painted  without  with  very  fine  frescoes.  We  re-entered  the  city 
near  the  palace,  and  passed  through  the  beautiful  English  gar- 
den, as  it  is  called, — an  extensive  park  or  grove,  through  which 
a  stream  of  blue  mountain  water  is  made  to  run  (as  if  it  were  a 
branch  of  the  Isar)  with  rapid  current,  giving  great  freshness 
and  animation  to  this  delightful  promenade. 

I  returned  to  the  hotel  towards  nightfall  entirely  overcome 
with  fatigue,  and  determined  to  leave  Munich  xibout  1  to-day 


JOURNAL  OF  THE  RHINE.  147 

Send  a  letter  from  M.  Overschi  de  Merisch  to  his  uncle  the 
Archbishop  of  Tyne,  the  Pope's  Nuncio  here,  with  my  card  and 
an  offer,  as  I  was  obliged  to  leave  Munich  next  day,  of  my  ser- 
vices in  case  he  had  any  thing  to  send  to  Brussels.  Monseig- 
neur  is  brother  of  my  friend  Mad.  Jos.  d'Hoogvorst,  and  of  the 
Count  de  Mercy  d'Argenteau,  a  good  Belgian  house.  Throw 
myself  on  a  sofa  and  fall  asleep  immediately. 

Stroll  out,  after  breakfast  to-day,  to  take  a  further  view  of  the 
town,  leaving  it  to  chance  to  direct  my  footsteps.  The  Faubourg 
Maximilian,  which  is  in  this  neighborhood,  is  already  very  airy 
and  well  built,  and  will,  some  years  hence,  be,  I  doubt  not,  quite 
elegant.  The  older  and  far  greater  part  of  the  city  very  inferior 
to  similar  parts  of  Brussels. 

When  I  return  to  my  lodgings,  at  12,  intent  upon  my  depar- 
ture, I  find  a  card  from  a  Mr.  Parkman,  an  American,  and  a 
pressing  and  most  flattering  invitation  from  the  Nuncio  to  dine 
with  him  to-morrow.  Considering  the  manner  in  which  Mad. 
d'Hoogvorst  urged  me  to  see  him,  and  my  reminding  her  son 
(for  she  was  not  in  Brussels  when  I  left  it)  of  her  request  to  be 
informed  when  I  should  set  out,  I  felt  almost  obliged  to  accept 
the  invitation,  and  so  postpone  my  departure  till  to-morrow  eve- 
ning,— determined- to  give  up  Augsbourg  and  travel  all  night  to 
Nuremberg,  the  horribly  cold  weather  notwithstanding. 

I  have  scarcely  sent  an  answer,  when  Mr.  Parkman  comes  in. 
Tells  me  the  Nuncio  spoke  to  him  some  days  ago  of  my  intend- 
ed arrival,  and  that  he  dines  with  H.  E.;  and  that  I  shall  find 
there  some  ladies  and  gentlemen  of  note  in  their  beau  monde 
here,  of  which,  it  seems,  the  Nuncio's  house  is  the  head-quarters. 

II  y  a  compensation  en  tout  et  partout, — if  I  expect  a  good 
dinner  to-morrow,  I  eat  a  detestable  one  to-day,  by  the  side  of  a 
German  speaking  English  with  an  Englishman  on  his  other 
side,  and  with  whom  I  did  not  exchange  one  syllable.  Inde- 
pendently of  my  unforgiving  repugnance  to  people  that  address 
themselves  to  me  in  broken  English,  I  am  not  at  ease  at  a  table 
oVhote,  and  feel,  whenever  I  am  at  one,  all  the  depth  of  my  mis- 
anthropy, or  whatever  such  a  temper  deserves  to  be  called.  I 
hear  my  name,  "Mr.  Legree",  distinctly  pronounced.  This  shews 
I  am  in  company  with  people  who  have  heard  of  me  in  America. 
I  listen  and  hear  further,  "at  Brussels",  etc.  It  is  a  conversation 
between  an  American,  or  German  established  in  America,  and 
his  wife,  and  an  Englishman,  vis-a-vis.  He  has  heard  of  my 
being  here  through  the  Mr.  Parkman,  (for  my  name,  in  the  list 
stuck  up  by  the  entrance  of  the  hotel  Lepare,  is  Mons.  Legare, 
particuHer,)  and  knows  who  I  am  without  knowing  me. 

After  dinner  visit,  the  Alter  Heilige  chapel,  which  is  just  built, 
in  the  Byzantine  style,  as  a  chapel  of  the  palace,  and  far  from 
being  finished.     What  I  go  to  see  are  the  fresco  paintings  in  the 


f  1^  JOURNAL  OF  THE  RHINE. 

ceilings, — and  beautiful  things  they  be.  Thence  to  the  Arcades 
that  line  the  HofT-Garten,  also  painted  in  fresco  :  one  series  of 
the  pictures  representing  the  great  epochs  of  Bavarian  history. — 
erection  of  the  Electorate,  storming  of  Belgrade,  etc., — another, 
some  of  the  principal  landscapes  of  Italy.  These  latter  have  all 
their  names  in  golden  letters  under  them,  and,  above,  an  epi- 
graph in  verse  by  his  most  poetical  majesty.  Thence  into  one 
of  the  book-shops  in  these  buildings  ;  offered  the  Carlsruhc 
edition  of  Herder,  in  forty-four  volumes,  (unbound,)  for  39  flor. 
Sadly  tempted  to  buy.  While  there,  the  bands  of  two  regiments 
play  in  the  garden  some  of  the  airs  of  the  Pre  aux  Clercs,  etc. 
The  young  man  in  the  shop  tells  me  these  fine  public  walks  are 
not  frequented, — the  people  giving  their  leisure  moments  to  the 
estaminet,  as  in  Belgium,  Yes,  say  I,  beer  and  tobacco  every 
where  dispose  to  rest.  Saw,  also,  the  monument  of  Prince 
Eugene  by  Thorwaldsen  in  the  Jesuit's  church.  Not  very  much 
struck.  Return  to  my  lodgings7  and  employ  the  evening  in 
scribbling  this  stuff. 

Thursday,  12th  May.  After  breakfast,  to  the  Leuchtenberg 
palace  to  see  the  gallery, — this  being  one  of  two  public  days  in 
the  week.  Unfortunately  shut  up  to-day,  because  there  is  a 
great  fete.  By  dint  of  perseverance,  am  conducted,  with  a  short 
old  woman  speaking  French  very  well,  though  with  an  accent, 
and  a  youngish  man,  whom  I  found  imploring,  into  the  gallery. 
I  take  it  into  my  head,  I  know  not  why,  that  this  is  Mrs.  Trol- 
lope.  My  great  object  was  Canova's  Graces  and  Madeleine.  I 
see  and  am  ravished.     This  is  worthy  of  Greece. 

The  gallery  of  paintings  is  small,  but  select.  There  are  three 
delicious  Murillos  :  a  Madonna,  beautiful  as  woman  can  be,  etc. 
A  head  of  St.  John  by  Carlo  Dolce,  the  pendant  of  his  Christ  at 
Dresden.  Some  Paolo  Yeroneses, — a  head  by  Raphael, — land- 
scapes by  Salvator  Rosa,  Domenichino,  Vernet,  (a  beautiful  one 
by  Joseph,  especially,)  Ruisdell, — pieces  by  the  Dutch  masters, — 
three  Rubens',  several  Vandykes,  (children  of  Charles  I.),  a 
capital  cartoon,  or  drawing  of  the  Cena  of  Leonardo  da  Vinci, 
etc.,  etc. 

We  have  to  decamp  in  an  hour,  for  some  princess,  I  forget 
whom,  is  coming  to  draw  there ;  and  I  go  thence  to  walk  about 
the  streets,  which  are  unusually  thronged,  as  are  all  the  churches, 
on  account  of  the  fete.  See  men  and  women  drinking  beer  to- 
gether in  open  piazzas, — Bocks-keller. 

The  coiffure  of  the  women  here  is  like  that  I  have  remarked 
elsewhere  in  Germany.  Hair  drawn  up  into  a  knot  on  the  top 
of  the  head,  and  surmounted  with  a  sort  of  tinsel  covering, 
which  I  am  not  sufficiently  master  of  the  language  of  millinery 
to  describe.  Another  thing  that  strikes  is  the  number  of  peasants, 


JOURNAL  OF  THE  RHINE.  149 

and  the  strong  mixture,  owing  to  the  neighborhood  of  the  moun- 
tains, of  rustic  simplicity  and  originality  in  costume  and  man- 
ners. About  3,  I  go  out  again  to  walk  before  dinner,  (half-past 
4,)  into  the  English  garden.  Find  that  the  water  in  the  streams 
led  through  the  park  is  not  blue,  as  I  thought,  but  a  bright  green, 
(rio  verde  of  the  Spanish  romance) ;  and  that  there  are  two 
crossing  each  other,  of  which  one  is  made  to  tumble  over  rocks 
some  three  or  four  feet  down,  and  to  send  up  quite  a  pleasing 
and  respectable  murmuring  sound.  A  good  many  people  come 
into  the  park  towards  4  o'clock,  as  I  am  going  out  to  dress  for 
dinner. 

I  am  precise, — indeed,  I  suppose  a  few  moments  before  the 
hour,  for  I  am  the  first  of  the  guests  that  arrive,  and  Monseig- 
neur  is  not  yet  in  the  salon.  Comes  in  immediately,  however, 
in  half-dress,  with  chocolate-colored  stockings,  etc.  I  am  struck 
with  his  abord,  which  is  extremely  graceful  and  courteous.  He 
is  rather  above  the  middle  size,  slender  though  well-proportioned, 
apparently  about  fifty-five,  but  in  good  preservation,  (if  that  is 
his  age,)  and  withal  I  think  handsome, — a  striking  likeness  to 
his  sister,  Madame  d'Hoogvorst.  His  entry  is  soon  followed  by 
that  of  his  secretaire,  and  then  successively  by  the  arrival  of 
about  sixteen  or  eighteen  other  guests, — my  countryman,  Mr. 
Parkman,  being  the  very  last,  and  somewhat  impatiently  waited 
for.  Among  the  personages  I  saw  here  were  Prince  Mavrocor- 
dato,  (the  Greek  minister,)  Count  and  Countess  Cetto,  Mr.  St. 
John  (of  Lord  Bolingbroke's  family),  etc.,  etc.  Dinner  very 
good — for  Germany ;  mine  host,  however,  is  a  Belgian,  and  so 
are  many  of  his  sujets,  says  my  servant.  Hoifse  very  comfort- 
able, and  rendered:,  indeed,  somewhat  splendid  by  gilded  cor- 
?iiches,  and  the  rooms  too  narrow.  At  table,  I  am  between 
the  secretary  (successor,  as  I  find,  of  my  colleague  Monseigneur 
Gizzi,  Internuncio  at  Brussels)  and  my  compatriot,  whom  I  dis- 
cover to  be  a  most  confirmed  ninny.  Among  other  persons  at 
table,  was  one  sitting  even  above  Mavrocordato,  who,  Parkman 
tells  me,  is  a  great  man  at  Court  here  and  a  soi-disant  converted 
Jew.  I  have  a  great  deal  to  say  to  my  Italian  neighbor,  but 
nothing  worth  repeating,  except  that  he  is  a  devoted  admirer 
and  friend  of  Gizzi,  (who  is  a  lawyer  of  the  Rota),  and  informs 
me  the  Lazzaroni  are  always  under  the  absolute  control  of  some 
ecclesiastic  or  other.  At  dinner,  Parkman  tells  me  the  conver- 
sation generally  turns  on  play,  old  Countess  Cetto  being  griev- 
ously addicted  to  it ;  and,  accordingly,  as  soon  as  dinner  is  over, 
the  whole  company,  following  the  lead  of  the  Nuncio  and  this 
veteran  gamestress,  go  up  stairs,  where  I  see  two  tables  set  with 
cards,  etc.,  on  them.  At  one  of  them  they  play  Napoleon  points  : 
at  the  other  some  trifle, — it  is  at  the  latter  the  Nuncio  always 
plays.     Before  they  have  made  up  their  parties,  the  Russian 


150  JOURNAL  OF  THE  RHINE. 

minister  comes  in  accompanied  by  two  youths,  who,  it  seems, 
are  his  new  attaches,  one  of  them,  I  believe,  his  son.  This 
frustrates  the  card-playing  project.  Segars  are  brought  out  in- 
stead, and  we  go  out  into  the  large  balcony  with  the  ladies, 
(Madame  Cetto  and  her  daughter,)  and  fall  to  smoking.  I  find 
my  poor  silly  countryman  is  a  butt.  Mad.  Cetto  calls  him  "Mr. 
Virginee",  adding  she  doesn't  know  why  she  doesn't  remember 
his  right  name.  She  bids  him  smoke  like  the  rest.  He  answers, 
"I  would  do  any  thing  I  could  to  please  you,  but  il  ne  foome 
pas."  "Ah,  vous  ne  foomez  pas," — "Monsieur  ne  foome  pas," — 
"Comment,  il  ne  foome  pas,"  etc.;  and  so  it  goes  round,  till  the 
whole  room  is  full  of  the  foome  of  the  poor  Yankee,  who 
listens  to  all  this  quizzing  with  the  most  unsuspecting  simpli- 
city and  bonhommie  imaginable.  St.  John  comes  up  and  talks 
with  me.  Says  he  was  born  in  America,  and  his  family  have 
possessions  there  still.  In  the  midst  of  our  confab,  the  Nuncio 
comes  up  and  takes  me  into  another  room  to  see  a  very  striking 
likeness  of  his  sister.  It  is  getting  late, — 7  o'clock, — and  being 
determined  to  leave  town  at  8,  I  take  my  leave  of  this  very 
amiable  and  gentleman-like  pers6n, — who  looks  confoundedly 
like  an  homme  a  bonnes  fortunes, — and  has  the  undefinable 
ways  of  a  polished  roue  de  bonne  compagnie, — after  many  com- 
pliments and  words,  of  course,  de  part  et  d) autre. 

When  he  first  entered  the  room  and  spoke  to  me,  I  thought  I 
had  never  met  with  any  body  whose  manners  pleased  me  more  ; 
but,  before  I  took  my  leave,  I  thought  him  rather  too  frisky  and 
juvenile  for  one  of  his  age  and  dignity.  His  breeding  has  been 
military.  In  1&23  he  was  the  King  of  Holland's  aid-de-camp, 
and  is  now  only  an  archbishop  in  partibus. 

Frankfort  on  the  Main,  16th  May,  9  o'clock  P.  M. 

I  arrived  here  this  evening,  at  7  o'clock, — having  passed 
through  Augsburg,  Nuremberg,  (where  I  spent  the  night  and 
half  the  next  day,)  and  Bamberg,  (where  I  also  passed  twenty- 
four  hours,)  and  alighted  at  the  Hotel  de  Russie. 

Augsburg  is  a  fine  city — the  exterior  that  is, — but,  for  histori- 
cal interest  and  old  monuments,  commend  me  to  Nuremberg, 
which  forms,  with  Wittenberg,  the  most  interesting  couple  of 
objects  I  have  seen  in  Germany.  Here  every  thing  is  as  full  of 
Albert  Durer  and  Peter  Fischer,  as  at  Antwerp  of  Rubens  and 
Matsys.  The  old  castle,  with  its  gallery  of  paintings,  etc., — the 
church  of  St.  Laurens  and  the  cathedral.  St.  Sebald's  tomb  in 
this  latter,  —and.  in  the  former,  the  tabernacle  in  stone,  Gothic 
style,  by  Kraft,  and  a  window  of  painted  glass,  not  inferior,  if 
not  superior,  to  that  in  the  cathedral  of  Cologne,  or  the  famous 
present  of  Charles  V.  to  St.  Gudule  at  Brussels.  An  extremely 
interesting  object  is  the  painting,  by ,  of  the  great  feast 


JOURNAL  OP  THE  RHINE.  151 

given  in  164S,  in  the  long  room  of  the  town-hall,  (a  noble  pile 
of  various  dates  and  styles,)  on  occasion  of  the  peace  of  West- 
phalia. The  table  is  surrounded  by  all  the  great  notabilites  of 
the  day, — said  to  be  good  likenesses.  Those  that  struck  me 
most  were  Piccolomini,  Banner,  Poppenheim,  (very  handsome 
figure,)  one  of  the  counsellors  of  embassy,  etc. 

The  general  face  of  the  country,  from  Munich  to  Nuremberg, 
mountainous  and  sterile,  as  on  the  other  road,  but  from  Nurem- 
berg to  Bamberg,  (seven  and  a  half  German  miles,)  along  a 
pleasant  valley,  the  drive  was  quite  delightful. 

This  last  city  is  situated  on  both  sides  of  a  little  river,  which 
here  begins  to  be  navigable,  and  falls,  just  below  the  town,  into 
the  Main.  Cathedral  and  castle  on  the  hill,  towering  over  the 
town.  The  former  a  noble  church,  full  of  Henry  II.  and  Cune- 
gonde.  Said  to  be  built  in  the  twelfth  century.  Arches  not 
pointed,  except  some  few. 


NOTE  BY  THE  PUBLISHERS. 

We  remark  of  this  Journal,  as  we  did  of  the  preceding  Diary, 
that  it  was  not  intended  by  its  author  for  publication  in  its  pre- 
sent shape,  and  also  that  the  difficulty  of  deciphering  the  manu- 
script may  have  led  to  many  verbal  errors,  especially  in  names 
of  persons  and  places. 


DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE. 


Mission  to  Belgium, 
Brussels,  26th  Sept.,  1832. 

To  the  Hon.  Edward  Livingston, 

Secretary  of  State  of  the  United  States — 

Sir, — I  arrived  here  only  on  the  21st  inst.,  but  have  been  so 
seriously  indisposed  ever  since,  as  to  be  almost  wholly  incapaci- 
tated for  any  sort  of  occupation.  I  made  an  effort,  however,  to 
go  out  yesterday  and  present  my  credentials  to  the  Secretary  of 
Foreign  Affairs,  and  had,  subsequently,  an  audience  of  the  king. 
My  unwillingness  to  suffer  another  Havre  packet  to  sail  without 
giving  the  Department  some  account  of  what  has  occurred 
during  the  first  stage  of  my  mission,  will,  I  trust,  excuse  any 
appearance  of  haste  or  brevity  in  that  account. 

"I  arrived  in  Paris  on  the  19th  of  August,  and  remained  there 
about  four  weeks.  My  stay  was  longer  than  I  originally  inten- 
ded that  it  should  be,  but  many  considerations  weighed  with  me 
to  protract  it.  The  two  most  prominent  were  the  fact,  known 
to  all  Europe,  that  the  politics  of  Prance  and  the  politics  of 
Belgium  are,  as  things  stand  at  this  moment,  precisely  the  same, 
and  their  interests  (in  respect  of  their  continental  relations,  of 
course)  completely  identified ;  and  my  own  entire  want  of  expe- 
rience in  the  new  and  delicate  function  committed  to  me  by  the 
government.  It  was  of  great  importance  to  me,  as  a  diplomatic 
agent  accredited  to  this  Court,  (itself  a  new  one,)  to  have  the 
advantage  of  being  presented  to  one,  with  which  it  is,  by  every 
sort  of  tie,  so  closely  connected ;  and  I  avail  myself  of  the 
occasion  to  express  my  gratitude  to  Mr.  Rives  for  the  pains  he 
took  to  promote  the  objects  I  had  in  view.  After  the  necessary 
delays,  which  need  not  be  mentioned,  I  was  presented  to  the 
King  of  France  at  Neuilly,  and  had  the  honor,  ten  days  after- 
wards, to  dine  with  the  Court  at  the  same  place.  The  interest 
(as  strictly  affectionate  and  domestic  as  any  that  occurs  in  private 
life)  which  the  reigning  family  of  France  feels  in  every  thing 
connected  with  the  welfare  of  Belgium,  ensured  to  me  a  kind 
reception  from  them,  and,  in  my  conversations  with  them,  I 
endeavored  to  pave  the  way  to  a  similar  reception  here.  The 
day  after  I  dined  at  Neuilly,  I  set  out  with  Gen.  Wool  on  my 
journey  hither.  He  begged  me  to  act  as  his  interpreter  at  the 
vol.  i  .—20 


154  DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE. 

important  post  of  Douai,  which  had  been  particularly  recom- 
mended to  his  attention,  and  a  stay  there  of  about  two  days,  for 
the  purpose  of  inspection,  was  the  only  delay  in  our  journey. 
As  soon  as  I  conveniently  could,  after  my  arrival  here,  I  sent  a 
note  (of  which  a  copy  is  herewith  transmitted)  to  the  Depart- 
ment of  Foreign  Affairs,  notifying  my  arrival  to  the  acting  min- 
ister, (Gen.  Goblet,)  and  requesting  him  to  appoint  a  time  at 
which  I  might  present  my  credentials.  We  had  an  interview 
yesterday,  at  noon.  He  expressed  himself,  on  behalf  of  his 
government,  most  favorably  disposed  towards  the  United  States, 
and  observed  that  lie  thought  we  had  a  deep  and  peculiar  interest 
in  the  prosperity  of  Belgium.  I  replied  to  him  in  general  terms, 
that,  as  a  growing,  prosperous  and  enterprising  nation,  the  Uni- 
ted States  have,  indeed,  a  deep  interest  in  the  welfare  of  all 
other  nations,  and  especially  in  whatever  has  a  bearing  upon 
the  freedom  of  navigation  and  commercial  intercourse.  After 
a  few  moments  of  such  conversation,  I  took  the  liberty  (which 
I  prefaced  by  as  many  apologies  and  palliations  as  I  could  ex- 
press in  French)  to  request  that  he  would  procure  me  as  early 
an  interview  with  the  king  as  was  consistent  with  the  perfect 
convenience  of  his  majesty,  assigning  as  a  reason  for  my  solici- 
tude upon  the  subject,  that  Gen.  Wool,  who  had  been  sent  abroad 
by  the  government  for  purposes  which  I  mentioned,  was  at 
Brussels,  and  would  remain  in  Belgium  but  a  short  time.  I 
therefore  wished  to  have  an  early  opportunity  of  presenting  him 
to  the  king,  since  I  could  not  doubt  but  that  here,  as  in  France, 
every  facility  would  readily  be  afforded  him  by  the  government, 
and  the  juncture  (on  the  very  eve,  apparently,  of  hostilities)  was 
a  most  interesting  one.  The  minister  told  me  he  would  make 
my  wishes  known  to  his  majesty,  and  that  he  thought  it  quite 
likely  I  should  be  received  in  the  course  of  the  day.  Accord- 
ingly, a  few  hours  afterwards,  both  Gen.  Wool  and  myself  were 
invited  to  dine  with  the  king.  I  was  presented  to  him  by  the 
Grand  Marshal  some  time  before  dinner.  The  reception  I  met 
with  was  such  as  I  had  been  led  to  think  it  would  be,  and  I 
expressed  to  his  majesty,  in  a  very  few  words,  the  gratification 
which  the  people  of  the  United  States  felt  at  the  happy  consum- 
mation of  the  Belgian  revolution,  in  the  establishment  of  the 
present  order  of  things.  The  king  conversed  with  me  in  a  very 
statesman-like  manner,  about  the  points  of  commercial  contact 
(if  I  may  so  express  it)  between  the  two  nations.  Amongst 
other  things,  he  dwelt  upon  the  prospect  of  resuscitating  com- 
pletely the  fortunes  of  Antwerp  by  making  it  almost  a  free  port, 
and  securing  to  it  the  undisturbed  navigation  of  the  Scheldt. 
In  fact,  I  have  understood  from  our  consul  in  that  city,  that,  in 
in  spite  of  all  its  present  difficulties,  (which  are  very  great,)  its 
commerce  is  very  much  increased,  and  that  it  bids  fair  soon  to 


DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE.  155 

divert  a  very  considerable  part  of  the  trade  of  the  Rhine,  from 
Amsterdam  and  Rotterdam. 

"Gen.  Wool  was  afterwards  presented  to  the  king,  who  did 
him  the  honor  of  inviting  him  to  breakfast  at  the  palace  this 
morning,  and  to  go  immediately  afterwards,  in  the  royal  car- 
riage, to  see  a  great  review  which  is  to  take  place  to-day  in  this 
neighborhood. 

"1  have  subscribed,  for  the  information  of  the  department,  to 
three  of  the  leading  newspapers  of  this  city  :  two  of  the  minis- 
terial, and  the  third  on  the  opposition  side  of  political  questions. 
Even  from  the  very  few  numbers  which  I  send  by  this  opportu- 
nity, the  government  will  perceive  that  the  King  of  Holland  has 
finally  and  flatly  rejected  all  overtures  to  a  compromise  of  the 
disputed  points,  and  that  the  controversy  will,  apparently,  now 
have  to  be  decided  by  force  of  arms. 

"The  young  Duke  of  Orleans  is  here  on  a  visit  to  his  sister, 
and  Marshal  Gerard  has  gone  to  the  northern  frontier  of  France 
to  put  himself  at  the  head  of  a  corps  oVarmze,  ready  thence,  at 
a  moment's  warning,  to  come  to  the  succor,  or  even  to  dispense 
with  the  services  of  the  Belgian  troops,  should  the  French  and 
British  governments  think  fit  to  enforce  the  decision  of  the  con- 
ference. It  is  possible,  perhaps  probable,  that  the  King  of  Hol- 
land will  yield  to  the  first  demonstration,  by  an  unequivocal 
overt  act,  of  such  a  purpose  on  the  part  of  those  governments. 
The  prospect  of  a  general  war,  growing  out  of  the  Belgian 
controversy,  seems  diminished  by  the  interest  which  Prussia  has 
in  the  free  navigation  of  the  Scheldt,  as  well  as  by  the  reception 
given  at  the  Courts  both  of  Austria  and.  the  power  just  men- 
tioned, to  the  ambassadors  of  Belgium.  What  effect  the  very 
important  and  rather  difficult  question  of  the  Spanish  succession 
may  have,  upon  the  peace  of  Europe  and  the  destinies  of  its 
governments,  is  another  affair.  The  name,  at  least,  is  of  evil 
omen. 

"Before  closing  this  communication,  I  have  to  state  that  a 
rumor,  not  groundless,  it  is  said,  prevails  here,   that  the  ambas- 
sador of  his  Prussian  majesty,  at  Paris,  has  protested  against  the 
French  army  of  the  North's  crossing  the  Belgian  frontier  in  case 
of  an  open  rupture  with  Holland.     This  looks  more  threatening 
than  any  thing  I  have  as  yet  heard.     And,  even  while  I  write 
these  lines  Gen.  Goblet,  the  Secretary  of  Foreign  Affairs  ad  in- 
terim, speaking  with  me  about  the  prospects  of  his  country, 
(which  he  did  a  good  deal,  at  the  conference,  to  improve,)  betrays, 
without  expressing,  a  deep  anxiety  on  the  subject. 
I  have  the  honor  to  be,  with  high  consideration, 
Your  ob'dt.  servant, 
[Signed]  H.  S.  Legare. 


156  DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE. 

Brussels,  17th  Oct.,  1832. 

To  the  Hon.  Edward  Livingston, 

Secretary  of  State  of  the  United  States, — 

Sir, — Nothing  definitive,  nothing"  from  which  safe  conclusions 
may  be  drawn,  has  yet  transpired  on  the  subject  in  controversy 
between  Belgium  and  Holland.  The  King  of  Holland  adheres 
pertinaciously  to  his  views  of  the  question,  and  is  thoroughly 
supported  in  his  determination  by  his  whole  people.  On  the 
other  hand,  it  is  quite  impossible  that  this  government  should 
consent  to  the  terms  which  he  exacts :  there  seems,  so  far  as  I 
can  judge,  to  be  the  greatest  unanimity  among  the  Belgians  on 
that  point,  however  they  may  differ  on  others.  But  then  the 
difficulty  seems  to  be  the  unwillingness  of  the  three  Northern 
Courts  to  suffer  any  coercive  measures  to  be  adopted  by  France 
and  England.  Lord  Durham,  who  passed  through  Brussels 
some  days  ago,  on  his  return  from  a  special  mission  to  St.  Pe- 
tersburg and  Berlin,  was  satisfied  with  the  results  of  his  nego- 
tiation. This  I  have  on  very  good  authority.  Shortly  after  his 
arrival  at  London,  a  cabinet  council  was  called  and  another 
meeting  of  the  conference  was  held.  The  English  newspapers, 
within  a  day  or  two,  announce  formally  that  a  combined  Eng- 
lish nnd  French  fleet  is  about  to  blockade  the  ports  of  Holland, 
with  the  consent  of  the  northern  powers. 

Meanwhile,  military  preparations  are  going  on  here  with  great 
activity,  as  well  as  on  the  northern  frontier  of  France.  You 
will  soon  have  heard  that  the  King  of  the  French  has  formed  a 
cabinet,  at  last,  at  the  head  of  which  is  Marechal  Soult,  and 
which  is  already  pledged  to  the  public  to  pursue  the  system  of 
Casimir  Perier.  In  all  events,  I  have  no  doubt  that  Louis  Phil- 
ippe will  do  whatever  he  can  to  defend  the  throne  of  his  son-in- 
law,  from  personal  no  less  than  political  reasons,  both  of  which 
are  very  strong  in  favor  of  that  course.  The  family  tie,  which 
unites  these  monarchs,  is  very  different  from  that  cold  political 
relation  which  royal  marriages  generally  produce.  It  is,  unless 
I  am  egregiously  deceived,  a  hearty  and  affectionate  union,  and 
will  produce,  as  far  as  it  may  lie  in  the  parties  principally  con- 
cerned, all  the  effects  of  a  similar  connection  in  private  life. 

I  dined  at  Court  a  few  days  ago,  and  had  a  very  long  conver- 
sation with  the  king,  which  turned  principally  upon  the  com: 
merce  which  is  likely  to  subsist  between  this  country  and  the 
United  States.  He  dwelt  much  upon  the  consumption  of  to- 
bacco, rice  and  cotton,  but  observed  to  me  repeatedly,  at  inter- 
vals, that  our  tariff,  especially  in  respect  of  woollens,  bore  very 
hard  upon  our  customers  here.  I  told  him  a  recent  reduction 
had  taken  place,  and  I  did  not  think  it  at  all  impossible  that 
some  further  modification  of  the  law  would  be  made,  as  soon  as 


DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE.  157 

experience  should  show,  as  it  would,  that  the  revenue  arising 
from  the  customs  under  the  present  act,  would  be  a  great  deal 
more  than  we  should  know  how  to  dispose  of  advantageously 
to  the  country. 

It  appears  to  me  very  desirable  that  the  Dutch  system  of 
restraint,  so  far  as  Antwerp  and  the  Scheldt  are  concerned,  should 
be  got  rid  of,  and  a  free  communication  with  the  States  of  the 
Rhine  be  opened,  as  I  trust  it  will  be,  under  the  auspices  of  this 
government.  I  am  persuaded  the  system  of  policy  which  King 
Leopold  will  adopt,  so  soon  as  he  shall  be  freed  from  the  diffi- 
culties of  his  present  position,  will  be,  in  all  respects,  consonant 
with  the  principles  of  enlightened  reason  and  good  government. 
I  am  so  much  struck  with  the  admirable  sense  and  temper  which 
are  displayed  in  his  whole  conduct  and  conversation,  that  I  am 
tempted  to  repeat  what  I  have  already  had  occasion  to  remark, 
that  it  is  impossible  the  Belgians  should  have  made  a  happier  or 
a  wiser  choice. 

I  did  not  receive,  until  yesterday,  the  trunks  containing  the 
archives  of  the  legation.  I  immediately  disposed  of  them  in 
the  office  of  the  Chancellerie  and  verified  the  inventory. .  Hav- 
ing heard  from  Mr.  Rives  on  the  subject  of  an  allowance,  under 
the  head  of  contingent  expenses,  for  office  hire,  I  have  provided 
myself  with  a  suitable  apartment  for  that  purpose,  for  which  I 
shall  send  in  a  quarterly  account  of  three  hundred  irancs.  If 
clerk  hire  be  allowed  me,  my  claim  for  it  will  amount  to  the 
same  sum,  which  is  what  I  give  to  the  person  occupied  in  the 
Chancellerie.  I  would  take  the  liberty  of  remarking  here,  that 
without  an  allowance  of  the  kind,  the  situation  of  a  Charge 
d'Affaires,  by  no  means,  as  I  know  from  experience,  desirable  in 
itself,  becomes  in  the  last  degree  irksome  and  disagreeable.  I 
think  the  Executive  ought  to  press  it  upon  the  consideration  of 
Congress,  that  it  is  far  from  being  an  advantage,  in  any  point  of 
view,  to  the  American  people,  to  send  its  representatives  abroad 
with  inadequate  compensations.  It  is  to  expose  them  to  per- 
petual mortification,  and  to  make  their  whole  life  a  painful 
struggle  to  reconcile  inevitable  expenses  with  necessary,  how- 
ever sordid  parsimony. 

I  have  the  honor  to  be,  etc., 

[Signed]  H.  S.  Legare. 


Mission  to  Belgium,      \ 
Brussels,  27th  Oct.,  1832.  S 

To  the  Honorable  the  Secretary  of  State 

of  the  United  States,  Washington,— 

gir^ — On  the  subject  of  the  Consular  department,  I  think  it  my 
duty  to  inform  the  government,  that  our  system  of  leaving  these 


158  DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE. 

agents  to  procure  what  recompense  they  may,  for  their  trouble 
and  services,  by  accidental  perquisiies,  leads  (I  understand  and 
have  reason  to  believe)  to  a  great  deal  of  evil.  In  the  more  im- 
portant sea-ports,  such  a  system  may  do  very  well,  but,  in  the 
great  majority  of  cases,  it  seems  impossible  that  the  character 
and  conduct  of  the  men  who  are  willing  to  accept  such  appoint- 
ments on  such  terms,  should  be  consistent  either  with  the  inter- 
est or  the  dignity  of  a  great,  and  especially  a  great  commercial 
people. 

I  know  that  these  things  are  subjects  of  legislation,  and  more 
proper  for  the  consideration  of  Congress  than  of  the  Executive, 
but  it  is  the  duty  of  every  one  connected  with  this  high  depart- 
ment, to  give  it  all  the  information  which  his  opportunities  ena- 
ble him  to  gather.  As  a  citizen  of  the  United  States,  I  feel  the 
more  sensitive  to  every  thing  which  involves,  in  any,  however 
slight  degree,  the  honor  of  our  country, — because  her  great 
example  is  now  more  than  ever  becoming  the  subject  of  inquiry 
and  discussion,  and  the  payment  of  the  national  debt,  and  the 
unexampled  prosperity  of  our  finances,  enable  the  government 
to  adopt  any  system  which  is  called  for  by  the  true  interests  of 
the  country. 

In  this  connection  I  would  remark,  as  you  will  gather  from 
the  newspapers  I  transmit  with  this  communication,  that  the 
spirit  of  emigration  is  spreading  in  Germany  to  a  most  extraor- 
dinary decree,  among  the  more  substantial  classes  of  country 
people  and  tradesmen,  who  bring  out  to  our  country  considerable 
accessions  of  industry,  intelligence  and  capital. 

I  have  the  honor  to  be,  etc.,  etc.,  , 

[Signed]  H.  S.  Lecare. 


Legation  of  the  United  States,      ^ 
Brussels,  2Gth  Nov.,  1832.  ^ 

To  the  Hon.  Edward  Livingston, 

Secretary  of  State  of  the  United  States, — 

Sir, — At  the  date  of  my  last  dispatches  (for  I  have  regularly 
written  by  all  the  packets  from  Havre  since  my  arrival  here)  the 
French  were  crossing  the  frontier.  Ten  days  are  since  elapsed 
and  they  have  made  no  progress  whatever  towards  the  accom- 
plishment of  their  chief  object,  except  that  their  army  is  collect- 
ed about  Antwerp.  The  summons  to  surrender  the  fortress, 
which  is  to  be  formally  made,  has  not  yet  gone  forth,  and  there 
seems  to  be  some  doubt  when  it  will.  I  suppose,  however,  in  a 
few  days  something  decisive  may  be  expected.  In  the  mean- 
time, from  the  papers  you  will  perceive  that  there  is  no  disposi- 
tion whatever,  on  the  part  of  the  King  of  Holland,  to  recede 


DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE.  159 

from  the  position  he  has  hitherto  maintained.  What  the  actual 
application  of  force  may  do,  it  may  be  difficult  to  conjecture,  but 
we  may  safely  affirm  that  he  has  exhibited  no  alarm  or  weak- 
ness at  its  approach.  Meanwhile  a  debate  of  great  interest  is 
going  on  in  the  house  of  representatives  here.  The  minister  of 
foreign  affairs  made  a  full  expose  of  the  conduct  and  results  of 
the  negotiations  at  London,  (of  which  a  copy  is  herewith  trans- 
mitted,) and  a  discussion  has  arisen  on  the  general  state  of  the 
nation,  thus  set  forth,  in  framing  the  answer  of  the  house  to  the 
discourse  of  the  king.  The  question  may  be  thus  summed  up. 
The  house, — that  is,  the  opposition  in  the  house,  who  were 
strong  enough  to  put  in  a  majority  of  members  of  the  committee 
on  the  address  of  their  own  party, — charge  the  ministry  with 
having  deviated  from  the  spirit  of  those  acts  by  which  the 
Chambers  declared  their  adhesion  to  the  articles  of  the  15th 
Nov..  1831,  commonly  called  the  Twenty-Four  Articles,  in  hav- 
ing agreed  to  the  intervention  of  France  and  England,  the  only 
object  of  that  intervention  being,  to  put  the  parties  to  the  con- 
troversy in  possession  of  the  territory  to  which  they  are  respect- 
ively entitled  under  the  Twenty-Four  Articles,  without  having 
any  effect  (except  a  very  contingent  and  undefined  one)  upon 
their  execution  in  other  respects.  The  consequence  of  this,  you 
are  aware,  will  be  to  give  up  to  Holland  one-tenth  (400,000)  of 
all  the  population  of  Belgium  in  Venloo  and  Limbourg,  and  part 
of  Luxembourg,  in  exchange  for  the  citadel  of  Antwerp  and  its 
dependencies,  without  any  thing  being  decided  as  to  the  debt, 
the  navigation  of  the  Scheldt  and  the  Meuse,  the  internal  com- 
munication by  land  and  water,  etc.  The  ministry  reply  by 
citing  the  very  language  of  the  Chambers,  enjoining  it  on  them, 
above  and 'before  all  things,  to  insist  upon  the  mutual  evacuation 
of  territory  ;  and  that  language  does,  in  fact,  seem  to  be  suscep- 
tible of  the  interpretation  put  upon  it  by  the  ministry.  But  the 
opposition  reply  that  the  evacuation  pr eatable  spoken  of  by  the 
Chambers  meant,  and  could  mean,  only  an  evacuation  de  gre-a- 
gre,  not  a  compulsory  one  ;  and  they  urge  with  vehemence,  that 
to  abandon  400,000  of  their  brethren,  who  have  shared  in  all 
the  glory  and  the  guilt  of  the  rebellion,  to  the  Dutch  govern- 
ment, would  be  as  base  as  it  is  impolitic  to  exchange  that  terri- 
tory for  the  citadel  alone,  which  is  no  fair  equivalent  for  it.  But 
then  a  party,  somewhat  between  the  ministry  and  the  opposition, 
say,  rather  sceptically,  however,  that  the  ministry  have  not  con- 
sented and  will  not  consent  to  cede  that  territory,  without  taking 
security  that  Holland  will  pass  an  act  of  oblivion  in  regard  to 
it.  On  this  point,  I  am  not  quite  sure  that  thevanswer  of  the 
ministers  is  explicit.  For  the  present,  they  seem  to  hint  an 
assent  to  the  necessity  of  some  such  stipulation.  In  the  mean- 
time, they  deny  that  the  evacuation  was  either  said  or  meant  to 


160  nil'LOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE. 

be  a  mutual  evacuation  by  consent.  There  appears  to  me  to  be 
much  force  in  the  view  of  the  opposition,  for  there  is  all  the 
difference  in  the  world  between  the  King  of  Holland's  estopping 
himself  by  a  voluntary  cession  of  the  fortress  and  abandonment 
of  the  Belgian  territory,  from  even  setting  up  any  claim  upon 
it,  and  his  being  forced  out  of  it  by  England  and  France,  medita- 
ting and  even  menacing  a  recapture  ot  the  posts,  and,  indeed,  a 
complete  restoration  of  dynasty.  But  then  comes  the  practical 
question,  which  puzzles  many  who  do  not  approve  of  the  con- 
duct of  the  ministers  so  much  as  to  make  the  result  of  the  dis- 
cussion still  uncertain,  —What  is  to  be  done  ?  The  armed  inter- 
vention with  the  concert  of  this  government  is  a  fait  accompli ; 
approve  or  disapprove  of  it,  what  do  you  propose  ?  They  inter- 
fere as  arbitrators  to  execute  a  treaty  which  they  have  virtually 
dictated.  The  only  condition  precedent  to  their  interference 
(the  invitation  of  this  government)  has  been  fulfilled.  Here 
they  are, — think  or  do  what  you  may,  the  alternative  presented 
is  either  to  acquiesce  in  what  cannot  be  undone  and  make  the 
most  of  it,  or  to  disavow  it  altogether,  break  off  all  negotiation, 
and  right  ourselves  as  against  Holland  by  open  war.  If  a  ma- 
jority of  the  Chambers  should  adopt  this  latter  course,  the  con- 
sequences cannot  be  anticipated.  For  my  own  part,  I  think  a 
general  war  would  ensue, — for  the  Northern  powers,  whose 
panic  about  revolutions  is  probably  somewhat  diminished  within 
the  last  year,  would  perhaps  be  glad  to  avail  themselves  of  such 
an  occasion  to  absolve  themselves  from  the  bond  of  the  Twenty- 
Four  Articles.  But  will  France  and  England  consent  to  Bel- 
gium's adopting  so  perilous  a  course?  Any  war  would  be 
unpopular  and  almost  impracticable  in  England,  situated  as  she 
is, — and  the  French  cabinet,  which  is  a  very  able  one  and  in- 
clined to  peace,  and  which,  besides,  as  is  manifest  from  the 
results  of  all  their  recent  parliamentary  triumphs,  have  gained 
a  complete  ascendant  over  the  popular  mind  in  France, — would 
naturally  do  all  they  could  to  prevent  any  change  in  the  existing 
condition  of  things.  This  is,  however,  all  speculation,  and  you 
know  how  to  appreciate  the  conjectural  predictions  of  politicians. 
I  perceive  that  in  South-Carolina  the  advocates  of  nullification 
are  completely  triumphant.  Should  they  proceed  to  any  decisive 
measures  of  opposition  to  the  law,  I  shall  probably  sue  for  my 
recall.  Things  will  have  been  settled  here,  and,  in  such  a  crisis, 
I  feel  that  my  post  is  not  in  a  foreign  land. 

Accept  the  assurances  of  my  high  consideration,  , 

[Signed]  H.  S.  Legare. 

•4 


DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE.  161 


Legation  of  the  United  States,      ) 


Brussels,  27th  Dec,  1832. 


To  the  Hon.  Edward  Livingston, 

Secretary  of  State  of  the  United  States, — 

Sir, — Since  my  last  dispatches  the  citadel  of  Antwerp  is  fallen 
into  the  hands  of  the  French,  and  Gen.  Chasse  and  his  whole 
garrison  are  prisoners, — but  whether  prisoners  of  war,  as  the 
victorious  General  has  called  them,  or  prisoners  of  a  denomina- 
tion yet  unknown  to  the  public  law  of  Europe,  is  a  great  ques- 
tion for  the  diplomatic  corps.  The  whole  expedition  was  a 
novelty  in  the  history  of  nations.  It  was  not  to  make,  but  to 
prevent  war,  that  the  French  army  entered  into  Belgium.  They 
came  to  enforce  a  contract, — to  execute  the  law  which  the  con- 
ference had  enacted.  Marshal  Gerard  was  doing  what  a  sheriff 
does  who  has  a  writ  of  habere  facias  possessionem  in  his  pocket. 
Like  a  sheriff,  he  had  a  right  to  overcome,  by  all  the  force  neces- 
sary for  that  purpose,  the  resistance  that  was  opposed  to  him. 
But,  the  trespasser  once  turned  out,  and  the  rightful  owner  put 
into  possession,  he  has  no  right  to  keep  the  former  in  custody. 
The  English  ambassador  was,  I  understand,  very  uneasy  at  the 
first  announcement  of  the  capitulation,  especially  upon  the  use 
of  the  term  "prisoners  of  war") — but  it  seems  probable  that  no 
serious  difficulty  will  arise  out  of  this  verbal  difference.  The 
probability  is  that  the  French  will  crown  their  really  (quaere 
tamen)  brilliant  expedition,  by  setting  the  Dutch  troops  at  large 
in  a  few  days.  Whether  they  will  themselves  return  so  soon  to 
France  remains  to  be  seen.  The  King  of  Holland  has  been, 
since  the  taking  of  the  citadel,  summoned  to  surrender  two 
other  forts,  which  were  at  first  under  the  command  of  General 
Chasse,  but  were  afterwards  detached  from  the  citadel.  His 
answer  is  not  yet  officially  known,  but  no  doubt  is  entertained 
but  that  it  will  be  in  the  negative.  The  same  stubborn,  impene- 
trable obstinacy,  or  the  same  confident  anticipation  of  a  general 
war  in  the  spring,  which  made  him  expose  so  many  brave  men 
to  destruction  in  the  citadel  of  Antwerp,  can  scarcely  fail  to 
make  him  dispute  every  inch  of  ground  to  the  last. 

By  this  happy  result,  the  Belgian  controversy  is  really  re- 
duced to  a  single  point, — and  that  a  very  subordinate  one, — in 
which,  besides,  this  government  is  not  much  more  deeply  inter- 
ested than  the  States  in  the  interior :  I  mean  the  quantum  of 
the  toll  to  be  paid  for  the  navigation  of  the  Scheldt, — or,  to  ex- 
press it  more  accurately,  of  the  indemnity  which  Holland  is  to 
receive  for  its  liberty. 

Matters  must  be  very  clumsily  managed  indeed,  or  some  very 
untoward  and  unexpected  events  arise,  to  prevent  a  final  settle- 
vol.  i. — 21 


162  DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE. 

ment  of  the  question  in  favor  of  the  present  order  of  things  in 
this  country  and  the  peace  of  Europe,  and  that  in  a  short  time. 
I  have  the  honor  to  be,  etc., 

[Signed]  H.  S.  Legare. 


Legation  of  the  United  States,      > 
Brussels,  6th  Jan.,  1833.  $ 

To  the  Hon.  Edward  Livingston, 

Secretary  of  State  of  ihe  United  States, — 

Sir, — Since  my  last  despatch  nothing  of  the  least  importance 
has  occurred  here.  The  French  army,  of  which  the  head-quar- 
ters are  at  present  here,  is  returning  to  France  without  having 
taken  the  forts  of  Lillo  and  Liefkenshock.  The  Dutch  prisoners 
have  been  marched  into  France,  and,  contrary  to  the  expectation 
I  intimated  in  my  last  letter,  there  has  hitherto  been  no  manifes- 
tation of  any  purpose  on  the  part  of  the  French  government  to 
release  them.  You  will  perceive,  from  the  newspapers,  that  the 
Northern  powers  have  recently  made  public  their  dissatisfaction 
in  reference  to  the  course  pursued  by  England  and  France  ;  and 
Russia,  especially,  seems  disposed  to  carry  it  with  a* very  high 
hand  towards  the  latter  power.  As  to  the  British  cabinet,  al- 
though the  results  of  the  recent  elections  are  as  favorable  to  it 
as  could  have  been  hoped.  I  am  very  certain  that  they  do  not 
feel  quite  easy  in  their  new  relations  with  France,  and  that  they 
will  be  extremely  indisposed  to  take  another  step  in  the  way  of 
coercion  (by  force,  I  mean)  against  Holland. 

But*  the  politics  of  Europe  are  become  comparatively  insigni- 
ficant in  my  eyes,  since  the  publication  of  the  proceedings  of 
the  South-Carolina  Convention.  I  am  not  called  upon  to  discuss 
that  subject,  at  present,  but  it  is  my  duty  to  inform  the  govern- 
ment, that  no  event  has  recently  occurred  which  has  excited  half 
so  much  interest  in  Europe.  I  am  firmly  persuaded  that,  except 
the  few  radicals  and  theoretical  republicans  scattered  about  the 
cities  and  universities,  all  parties  are  filled  with  hope  and  joy  at 
the  appearance  of  a  danger  so  imminent,  impending  over  the 
"republique  modele",  as  it  is  tauntingly  called.  Depend  upon  it, 
sir,  that  if  the  wise  and  moderate  counsels  of  the  country  do 
not  prevent  those  discontents  from  breaking  out  into  flame,  the 
cunning  of  European  diplomacy,  and  the  arms,  it  may  be,  of 
European  power,  will  not  long  be  wanting  to  encourage  and 
strengthen  the  fatal  spirit  of  resistance.  There  never  has  been 
an  era  in  modern  history,  the  reign  of  terror  itself  not  excepted, 
in  which  crowned  heads  of  every  name  and  description  might 
be  expected  more  cordially  to  unite  in  such  an  undertaking, — to 


DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE.  163 

say  nothing  of  the  commercial  interest  which  all  Europe  has  in 
getting  rid  of  your  restrictive  measures,  and  the  competition  of 
the  industry  which  they  are  supposed  to  foster. 
I  have  the  honor  to  be,  etc., 

[Signed]  H.  S.  Legare. 

P.  S.  The  lively  interest,  which  the  very  peculiar  posture  of 
affairs  in  this  country  gave  to  its  news,  having  ceased  to  exist,  I 
shall,  it  is  probable,  be  a  less  frequent  correspondent  of  the  de- 
partment hereafter.  Mr.  Clay,  secretary  of  legation  at  St.  Peters- 
burg, bearer  of  despatches  to  the  government,  arrived  here  last 
night,  and  will  proceed  forthwith  to  his  destination  either  thro' 
Havre  or  Liverpool.  From  a  conversation  with  him,  I  learn 
that  the  government  has  refused  to  allow  office-rent  at  St.  Pe- 
tersburg. That  being  the  case,  I  suppose  I  must  expect  the 
same  rule  to  apply  to  my  own  case,  and  shall  not  urge,  for  the 
present  year,  a  claim  founded  I  conceive  upon  obvious  reason 
and  even  necessity.  The  archives  of  the  legation  occupy  two 
closets.  The  minister  is  particularly  charged  with  the  care  of 
thern.  No  official  business,  of  any  importance,  can  be  transacted 
elsewhere  than  in  a  bureau,  and,  least  of  all,  where  a  small  in- 
come requires  that  a  public  functionary,  however  elevated  his 
political  rank  may  be  in  the  opinion  of  mankind,  shall  spend  as 
little  as  possible  upon  house-rent.  Neither  desiring  nor  expect- 
ing, myself,  to  participate  in  any  advantages  that  may  result 
from  a  change  in  the  policy  of  the  government,  I  cannot  choose 
but  declare  as  a  citizen  of  the  United  States,  jealous  of  the  honor 
of  a  great  country,  and  that  country  one,  for  reasons  already 
stated,  an  object  of  universal  jealousy  and  hostility,  that  an 
entire  change  in  the  system  of  our  diplomatic  agencies  is  abso- 
lutely necessary.  Gentlemen,  worthy  to  represent  such  a  nation 
as  ours,  in  so  exalted  a  social  station  as  the  corps  diplomatique 
occupies  in  all  civilized  countries,  must  be  placed  above  the  de- 
grading sacrifices  of  feeling  to  which  every  American  minister, 
without  exception,  is  at  present  subjected. 


Legation  of  the  United  Slates,      ) 
Brussels,  17th  Jan.,  1833.  $ 

To  the  Hon.  Edward  Livingston, 

Secretary  of  State  of  the  United  States, — 

Sir,  —The  King  of  Holland  has,  at  last,  made  an  overture  to 
France  and  England,  which  is  likely,  I  should  think,  to  lead  to 
a  satisfactory  settlement  of  the  question.  The  language  of  the 
ministers  is  singularly  contrasted  with  that  hitherto  held  by  the 


164  DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE. 

Dutch  government.     I  have  seen   the  communication   in  the 
hands  of  one  of  the  diplomatic  corps  here. 

In  consequence  of  the  king's  absence,  (at  Lille  with  the  French 
Court,)  who  is  expected  to  return  to  day,  nothing,  I  suppose,  has 
yet  been  done  by  this  government. 

The  peace  of  Europe  seems  about  to  be  settled  upon  a  surer 
basis  than  hitherto.  I  am  sorry  to  have  to  add  that  the  lament- 
able proceedings  at  the  South  will  have  signally  contributed  to 
that  "result,  by  precluding  the  possibility  of  any  movement  in 
favor  of  further  reform,  and,  of  course,  reconciling  absolute 
monarchs,  in  some  degree,  to  those  already  made.  Let  me  add, 
sir,  that  the  message  and  the  proclamation  of  the  President  have 
made  a  profound  impression  in  Europe,  which  is  unanimous  in 
extolling  the  wisdom,  patriotism  and  moderation  that  charac- 
terize those  papers.  It  is  the  universal  sentiment  that,  if  our 
institutions  are  not  predestined  to  end  in  early  ruin  and  dishonor, 
they  will  be  saved  by  the  administration  of  Gen.  Jackson. 

I  have  heard  nothing  directly  from  the  South,  so  that  I  do  not 
know  as  yet  what  to  think  of  our  prospects.  The  proceedings 
of  the  "Convention"  are  characterized  by  a  precipitation  and 
recklessness  only  equalled  by  that  of  the  Governor  who  sum- 
moned them  so  hastily  to  the  work  of  ruin.  They  have  pro- 
scribed, trampled  upon  and  outlawed  the  whole  Union  party.  I 
am  looking-  with  the  greatest  anxiety  for  intelligence  from  my 
friends.  If  they  think  I  can  be  of  any  use  in  the  scene  of 
action  itself,  I  shall  ask  leave  to  return  to  them.  If  our  cause 
is  hopeless  there  for  the  present,  I  may  as  well  remain  here  until 
ulterior  events  shall  enable  the  government  to  determine  at  what 
post  I  can  render  the  best  service  to  the  country.  I  have  been 
profoundly  afflicted  at  the  posture  of  affairs  at  home,  but  I  do 
not  know  how  it  is  that  my  hopes  are  greatly  revived  within  a 
few  days,  and  I  begin  to  think  that  these  threatening  events 
have  only  been  permitted  as  a  lesson  to  us  all, — one  which  I 
have  long  expected  we  should  receive,  and  which  may  end  in 
infinite  good. 

I  have  the  honor  to  be,  etc., 

[Signed]  H.  S.  Legare. 


Legation  of  the  United  States,      > 
Brussels,  April  11th,  1833.  \ 

To  the  Hon.  Edward  Livingston,  etc., — 

Sir, — Since  I  had  the  honor  of  writing  to  the  department,  the 
affairs  of  this  country  have  made  no  progress  whatever  towards 
a  final  settlement,  but  rather,  I  should  say,  the  reverse, — M. 
Dedel  has  been  substituted  by  the  King  of  Holland  to  M.  Van 


DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE.  165 

Zuylen  Van  Nyvelt,  but  it  is,  I  fear,  simply  a  change  of  men. 
The  negotiations  between  the  new  Envoy  and  Lord  Palmerston 
and  M.  de  Talleyrand  have  not  yet  begun, — at  least,  Sir  Robert 
Adair,  though  anxiously  expecting  intelligence  upon  the  subject, 
got  none  by  his  courier  yesterday.  There  seems  to  be  good 
reason,  in  the  meantime,  for  believing,  that  the  King  of  Holland 
is  determined  not  to  agree  to  any  terms  that  the  English  and 
French  negotiators  would  entertain,  for  a  moment ;  and,  indeed, 
I  have  been  informed,  by  a  person  that  has  correspondents  at 
the  Hague,  that  he  still  dreams  of  a  restoration.  Indeed,  his 
capital  and,  as  he  thinks  it,  conclusive  argument  against  the 
terms  offered  him  by  the  mediating  parties,  is  that  his  throne 
would  not  be  worth  the  trouble  of  occupying  it  on  such  condi- 
tions.* And  there  may  be  some  truth  in  that  view  of  the  conse- 
quences likely  to  result  to  Holland,  from  the  emancipation  of 
Belgium  and  the  complete  establishment  and  administration  of 
its  government  on  large  and  enlightened  principles. 

But  the  question  for  a  practical  statesman  is  what  remedy  is 
there  for  the  evil :  will  keeping  up  an  immense  military  force 
merely  to  wait,  year  after  year,  for  some  fortunate  turn  in  the 
chapter  of  accidents,  while  the  country  is  loading  itself  with 
debts  and  taxes,  and  even  hazarding  its  whole  existence  as  a 
commercial  nation,  answer  that  purpose  ?  The  King  of  Holland 
seems  to  have  satisfied  himself  that  it  will,  and  as  he  is  said  to 
have  his  supplies  for  the  year,  he  is  independent  of  public  opin- 
ion, if  it  be  not  favorable  to  his  policy,  for  that  period,  at  least. 
Meanwhile,  the  situation  of  Belgium- seems  to  me  to  be  full  of 
difficulty.  A  debate  took  place,  the  other  day,  relative  to  the 
war  budget.  An  amendment  was  proposed,  of  which  the  object 
was  to  limit  the  supplies  to  be  granted  for  the  keeping  up  the 
present  establishment  to  six  months,  with  a  view  to  coerce  the 
ministry  into  the  adoption  of  some  decided  course,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  to  enable  them  to  say  to  the  Courts  of  Paris  and 
London,  you  must  either  settle  this  question  within  that  time, 
or  consent  to  our  righting  ourselves  by  open  hostilities, — or,  in 
short,  guaranty  us  against  any  possible  invasion  of  Holland,  after 
we  shall  have  reduced  our  army.  It  does,  indeed,  seem  to  be  a 
very  hard  case  for  a  country  which  is,  for  the  first  time,  assum- 
ing its  station  as  an  independent  commonwealth,  to  be  compelled 
to  keep  up,  at  an  expense  most  disproportionate  to  its  resources, 
a  military  establishment  as  great  as  it  could  possibly  maintain  if 
hostilities  were  actually  broken  out,  when  the  period  of  such 
hostilities  is  indefinitely  postponed  by  those  who  control  its  des- 
tinies. This  is  the  more  galling,  as  there  is  some  reason  to 
suspect  that  the  Belgian  government  is  now  secretly  dissatisfied 
with  the  Twenty-Four  Articles,  and  has  a  mind  to  form  (if  the 

*  Remarkably  verified  in  his  recent  abdication* 


166  DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE. 

thing  were  possible)  a  triple  alliance  with  France  and  England, 
with  a  view  to  secure  itself  the  left  bank  of  the  Scheldt  and 
North  Brabant,  instead  of  acquiescing  in  a  state  of  passive  neu- 
trality and  taking  only  what  the  mediating  powers  are  pleased 
to  allot  it. 

If  the  reports  we  hear  of  Ibrahim  Pasha's  progress  and  pur- 
poses are  to  be  relied  on,  the  affairs  of  Turkey,  as  to  which 
France,  and  perhaps  England,  regard  with  jealousy  the  sinister 
interest  that  Russia  is  said  to  manifest  towards  the  Porte,  will 
tend  still  farther  to  embroil  the  politics  of  the  great  powers  who 
have  made  the  boasted  balance  of  Europe  subservient  to  their 
own  domination  and  encroachments,  and  suffer  nothing  to  be 
done  by  any  of  the  minor  States  that  does  not  promise  to  pro- 
mote their  interests. 

All  speculations  about  the  chances  of  war  are  necessarily  very 
unsatisfactory.  Appearances  for  the  last  four  months  have  cer- 
tainly been  very  much  against  the  probability  of  such  an  event ; 
but,  in  spite  of  the  reluctance  evidently  felt  by  the  Northern 
crowns  to  support  the  pretensions  of  the  King  of  Holland  openly, 
I  should  not  be  surprised  if  his  obstinacy  were  yet  so  far  suc- 
cessful as  to  bring  on  serious  difficulties,  if  not  an  open  rupture, 
between  the  despotic  Courts  and  England  and  France.  I  think 
the  peace  of  the  continent,  as  I  had  the  honor  of  intimating  on 
a  former  occasion,  is  in  much  less  danger  now  than  it  was  some 
months  ago,  not  only  because  the  new  administration  in  France, 
and  the  Whigs  of  England,  have  proved  themselves,  since  the 
opening  of  their  respective  assemblies,  much  more  powerful  at 
home  than  was  generally  supposed  last  summer,  but  also  because 
of  the  policy  adopted  by  those  governments,  which  has  been 
any  thing  but  revolutionary.  Recent  events,  too,  have  thrown 
discredit  upon  the  pretensions  of  the  elder  branch  of  the  house 
of  Bourbon,  and  tended  to  reconcile  many,  who  have  been  hith- 
erto well  disposed  to  it,  to  the  new  regime. 

In  the  Moniteur  of  to-day,  (2d  April,)  which  is  herewith 
transmitted,  you  will  see  a  very  clear,  precise  and  condensed 
expose  of  the  state  of  the  military  service  here,  made  by  Baron 
Fvain,  Minister  Director  of  the  War  Department.  You  will 
there  see  the  absolute  necessity  the  administration  are  under  of 
keeping  up  their  present  establishment,  until  the  mediating  pow- 
ers shall  think  proper  to  take  upon  themselves  the  responsibility 
of  coercing  Holland  into  compliance  by  more  efficacious  mea- 
sures, or  shall  at  least  guaranty  to  Belgium  the  undisturbed 
possession  of  her  independence  and  neutrality,  at  their  own  risk 
and  expense.  On  this  part  of  the  subject,  it  is  sufficient  to 
observe  that  a  serious  difficulty  has  already  arisen  between  the 
French  government  and  this,  touching  the  expenses  of  the  two 
expeditions  of  the  French  army  in  '31  and  '32.  In  settling  the 
/ 


DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE*  167 

new  public  law  of  Europe,  by  which  the  monopoly  of  war 
seems  likely  to  be  secured  to  the  Great  Powers  in  their  quality 
of  Armed  Judges,  it  becomes  necessary  to  regulate  the  important 
matter  of  costs.  The  notion  was  accordingly  broached  in  the 
French  Chamber  of  Deputies  that  Holland  had  justly  incurred 
the  poena  temere  litigantium,  and  that  an  indemnity  against  the 
expenses  of  those  expeditions  ought  to  be  reserved  out  of  the 
debt  or  part  of  the  debt  to  which  Belgium  is  made  liable  by  the 
Twenty-Four  Articles.  This  is  a  novel  and  curious  question 
in  this  new  jus  belli  et  pads.  Under  the  old  law  of  force,  it 
was  a  very  simple  plan  to  make  the  weaker  party  add  this  to  its 
other  sacrifices  ;  but  how  will  that  apply  to  a  case  like  the  siege 
of  Antwerp,  which  is  not  an  act  of  war? 

Some  time  ago,  in  conversation  with  Sir  R.  Adair,  he  men- 
tioned to  me  that  you  had  negotiated  a  treaty  with  Baron  Behr, 
which  had  alarmed  the  government  here,  as  I  could  plainly 
perceive  it  had  given  umbrage  to  him.  He  began  by  asking  me 
if  I  knew  him,  and  then  proceeded  to  say  that  "the  Yankees 
had  been  too  many  for  him  in  a  recent  negotiation."  I  replied 
that  there  was  always  a  great  deal  of  ability  in  the  public  ser- 
vice of  the  United  States.  "No  doubt  of  that,"  said  he,  "and 
our  government  ought  to  be  careful  whom  they  send  to  Wash- 
ington." But  what  have  they  been  persuading  the  young  diplo- 
matist to  do?  said  I.  "Oh  !"  he  replied,  "to  consent  that  free 
bottoms  should  make  free  goods,  and  I  don't  know  what  all 
besides :  the  ministers  here  are  all  alarmed  and  disavow  the 
having  granted  any  such  powers,"  etc.  I  could  see  that  the  in- 
veterate commercial  jealousy  of  England  was  awakened,  and 
that  my  estimable  and  respected  friend  (for  I  owe  him  many 
kind  offices)  had  been  protesting  against  some  supposed  encroach- 
ment on  the  sacred  province  of  the  English  law  of  prize.  How- 
ever, I  have  since  heard  that  no  such  treaty  has  been  negotiated. 
You  know  best.  I  thought  the  conversation  characteristic  enough 
to  be  worth  repeating. 

I  have  the  honor  to  be,  etc., 

[Signed]  H.  S.  Legare. 


From  Mr.  Livingston  to  Mr.  Lejrare. 


Department  of  Slate, 
Washington,  13th  March,  '33. 


Hugh  S.  Legare,  Esq.,  Charge  d'Affaires  U.  S., — 

Sir, — A  variety  of  urgent  business,  during  the  session  of  Con- 
gress, has  prevented  my  acknowledging  your  several  very  inter- 
esting despatches  up  to  No.  11,  and  what  must  appear  more 
extraordinary  to  you,  has  not  given  me  leisure  to  transmit  to 


169  DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE* 

you  a  treaty  of  navigation  concluded  here  with  the  Belgian 
minister,  and  ratified  by  the  Senate.  As  it  contains  no  articles 
on  which  any  difficulty  was  likely  to  arise,  no  particular  instruc- 
tions seemed  necessary  to  urge  its  ratification  at  Brussels,  the 
notice  of  it  was  deferred  from  time  to  time  to  make  way  for 
more  pressiug  business.  A  copy,  which  I  expected  from  the 
Senate,  not  being  yet  prepared,  will  be  enclosed  to  you  by  the 
next  Havre  packet.  I  now  write  in  some  haste,  and  have  only 
to  add  the  expression  of  entire  approbation,  both  of  the  President 
and  this  department,  of  the  punctuality  and  ability  with  which 
you  have  discharged  the  duties  of  your  mission. 

The  situation  of  our  diplomatic  agents  abroad  has  not  been 
unattended  to,  as  you  will  see  by  the  enclosed  report. 
I  am,  sir,  with  great  respect,  etc., 

[Signed]  Edw.  Livingston. 

P.  S.     Since  writing  the  above  despatch,  a  copy  of  the  recent 
treaty  with  Belgium  has  been  made  and  is  forwarded  herewith. 


Legation  of  the  United  States,      > 
Brussels,  May  27th,  1833.  $ 

To  the  Hon.  Edward  Livingston,  etc., — 

Sir, — Since  I  had  the  honor  of  writing  to  you,  a  preliminary 
treaty  has  been  signed  at  London  between  the  King  of  Holland 
and  the  two  great  powers.  Its  principal  provisions,  as  you  will 
perceive,  (for  it  is  published  in  all  the  journals,)  are  an  indefinite 
armistice,  the  provisional  liberty  of  the  Scheldt  until  a  definite 
settlement  of  the  controversy,  and  the  application  to  the  Meuse 
of  the  tariff  established  by  the  treaty  of  Mentz.  On  the  other 
hand,  Holland  gains  immediately  the  following  advantages  :  the 
raising  of  the  embargo,  the  liberation  of  the  prisoners  made  at 
the  taking  of  the  citadel  of  Antwerp,  and  the  restoring  of  the 
relations  between  the  parties  to  the  footing  on  which  they  stood 
before  the  expedition  of  the  French  last  November.  This  result 
was,  no  doubt,  brought  about  by  a  note  of  the  three  northern 
powers  which  was  sent  in  a  few  days  after  I  wrote  you  my  last, 
and  the  adjustment  of  the  Turkish  controversy,  which  at  one 
time  seemed  to  wear  a  threatening  aspect.  Still,  the  negotiation 
remains  open,  and  it  is  hardly  to  be  expected  that  the  King  of 
Holland  will  so  far  depart  from  all  the  analogy  of  his  conduct 
and  character,  (for  he  is  essentially  litigious,)  as  to  bring  it  with 
any  unnecessary  speed  to  a  close. 

I  mentioned,  in  my  last,  that  1  had  said  nothing  officially,  and 
that  nothing  had  been  said  to  me,  about  the  treaty  negotiated  by 
the  Belgian  envoy  at  Washington^     This  unaccountable  silence, 


DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE.  169 

taken  in  connection  with  what  I  told  you  in  a  former  letter  that 
Sir  Robert  Adair  had  said  to  me  on  the  subject,  led  me  almost 
to  entertain  a  suspicion  that  this  government  did  not  mean  to 
ratify  it  without  some  modification, — favorable  as  the  terms  of 
neutrality  are  to  so  weak  a  maritime  power  as  Belgium.  But 
the  mystery  has  been  since  explained.  The  minister  of  foreign 
affairs*  called  on  me  the  other  day  and  asked  me  if  I  had  a  copy 
of  the  treaty,  begging  me,  if  I  had  one,  to  let  him  have  it,  as 
that  sent  by  M.  Behr  had  not  come  to  hand.  I,  of  course,  com- 
plied with  the  request,  and,  a  day  or  two  after,  at  Court,  the 
king  said  to  me  en  passant,  with  a  smile,  uWe  have  made  a  fine 
treaty,  as  its  conditions  are  quite  agreeable  to  the  neutrality 
which  is  a  principle  of  our  existence."  In  this  connection  1 
ought  to  mention  that  the  admitting  of  linen,  etc.,  into  the  Uni- 
ted States,  duty  free,  by  the  new  tariff,  has  given  immense  satis- 
faction here,  fully  one-third  of  the  manufacturing  industry  of 
the  country  (I  am  informed)  being  employed  about  those  parti- 
cular products,  and  the  separation  from  Holland  having  deprived 
it,  hitherto,  of  all  its  markets,  and  produced  the  greatest  possible 
distress. 

I  have  the  honor  to  be,  etc., 

[Signed]  .  H.  S.  Legare. 


Legation  of  the  United  Stales,      i 
Brussels,  2d  July,  1833.  \ 

To  the  Hon.  Louis  McLane, 

Secretary  of  State  of  the  United  States. — 

Sir^ — Permit  me  to  begin  my  official  correspondence  with 
you,  by  congratulating  you  and  the  country  upon  the  choice 
which  the  President  has  made  in  you  of  one  in  every  respect 
worthy  to  be  the  successor  of  Mr.  Livingston,  and  pre-eminently 
qualified  for  the  first  department  of  the  administration.  I  had 
the  honor,  in  my  last  despatch,  of  stating  to  the  government 
that  a  preliminary  treaty  had  been  signed  between  France  and 
England  on  the  one  part,  and  Holland  on  the  other.  Since  that 
time  nothing  decisive  has  occurred,  but  there  is  every  reason  to 
expect  as  speedy  a  termination  of  the  controversy  as  is  consistent 
with  the  dilatory  habits  and  litigious  character  of  the  King  of 
Holland.  The  English  minister,  Sir  Robert  Adair,  tells  me 
there  is  very  little  doubt  but  that  an  Austrian  ambassador  will 
soon  arrive  at  Brussels.  You  will  at  once  perceive  all  the  im- 
portance of  such  an  event.  The  Exequatur  of  Mr.  Marck  has 
been  obtained  and  transmitted  to  him. 
I  have  the  honor  to  be,  etc.,  etc., 

[Signed]  H.  S.  Legare. 

vol.  i. — 22 


170  DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE. 


Legation  of  the  United  State.%      { 
Brussels,  2d  July,  1833.  ^ 

To  the  Hon.  Louis  McLane, 

Secretary  of  State  of  the  United  States, — 

Sir, — Since  I  had  the  honor  of  writing  to  yon,  I  have  received 
your  letter  of  notification  announcing  your  having  entered  upon 
the  duties  of  the  Department  of  State,  a  iact  of  which  I  had  not 
been  oilicially  advertised  when  I  ventured  to  oiler  you  my  con- 
gratulations upon  it. 

The  negotiations  of  the  conference  have  not  made  the  pro 
gress  which  was  expected,  but  neither  do  the  difficulties  that 
embarrass  them  arise  from  the  quarter  where  they  were  princi- 
pally apprehended.  The  conference  is  come  to  a  stand,  because 
the  Belgian  ministry  will  not  consent  to  allow  Holland  to  levy 
any  duty  on  the  Scheldt  that  shall  exceed  one  per  cent,  per  ton 
of  merchandise, — at  least,  without  adequate  compensation  for 
any  concession  beyond  that  amount.  In  this  preiension  they 
found  themselves  upon  Lord  Palmerston's  theme,  as  one  of  the 
abortive  projects  of  reconciliation  offered  to  the  parties  litigant, 
last  summer,  was  called.  The  compensation  they  claim  is  a 
reduction  of  the  debt,  or  part  of  the  debt,  for  the  payment  of 
which  Belgium  was  made  responsible  by  the  treaty  of  Nov.,  '31, 
commonly  known  as  the  Twenty-Four  Articles.  It  is  difficult 
to  imagine  that  the  five  powers,  after  having  done  so  much  to 
preserve  the  peace  of  Europe  and  made  concessions  to  the  spirit 
of  revolution,  of  which  I  am  quite  sure  they  all  repent  now, 
with  the  exception,  perhaps,  of  France,  will  suffer  themselves 
to  be  thwarted  by  the  forwardness  of  the  very  party  to  whom 
they  have  already  sacrificed  so  much,  and  that  so  reluctantly,  (1 
speak  here  their  language).  The  Belgian  ministry  think  they 
play  a  sure  game,  as  the  preliminary  treaty  is  better  than  any 
definitive  arrangement  they  can  expect, — and  their  wish  would 
no  doubt  be  to  prolong  indefinitely  so  advantageous  a  status  (/no. 
I  Jut,  after  the  siege  of  Antwerp  and  the  blockade,  it  is  hardly  to 
be  expected  that  the  officious  powers  will  shrink  from  coercive 
measures  in  regard  to  the  other  party  to  the  controversy,  which, 
beyond  all  doubt,  owes  its  present  existence  as  a  party  to  what 
they  have  done,  if  not  to  what  they  are  now  doing. 

The  interference  of  France,  after  the  disastrous  affair  at  Lou- 
vain,  in  1831,  saved  the  throne  of  Leopold  ;  and  I  do  not  know 
any  thing  but  the  throne  of  Leopold,  identified  as  he  is  by  mar- 
riage  with  the  destinies  of  the  reigning  family  of  the  Bourbons, 
that  presents  a  very  serious  obstacle  to  the  partition  of  this  coun- 
try, which,  J  believe,  has  been  all  along  in  M.  de  Talleyrand's 
eye,  though  1  do  not  assert  that  it  has.  The  recent  birth  of  a 
prince  has  certainly  done  much  to  consolidate  the  new  State. 


DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE,  171 

Absolutely  the  only  appearance  oi  popular  enthusiasm,  I  have 
observed  since  my  residence  here,  took  place  at  the  ceremony  of 
the  baptism,  which  was  performed  on  the  Sth  inst.,  in  the  cathe- 
dral of  this  city,  with  great  solemnity,  by  the  Archbishop  of 
Mechlin  himself.  This  child,  thus  laid  by  a  Protestant  father, 
as  a  peace-offering,  upon  the  altar  of  the  church,  seems  to  have 
won  the  heart  of  a  country  more  exclusively  under  the  influence 
of  religious  feelings  than  any  other  in  Christendom.  Unde- 
bauched  by  the  atheistical  contamination  of  France  during  so 
many  years  of  temptation,  the  Belgians  are  as  good  Catholics 
now  as  they  were  before  Luther  preached,  and  nothing  but  an 
inexplicable  apathy  in  political  matters,  which  prevents  more 
than  half  the  whole  number  of  electors  from  now  approaching 
the  polls,  prevents  their  spiritual  leaders  from  doing  just  as  they 
please  there.  The  consequence,  however,  of  this  apathy  is,  that 
the  liberals,  as  the  opposition  call  themselves,  send  to  the  cham- 
ber of  representatives  a  bold,  noisy  and  persevering  minority, 
which,  without  being  able  to  carry  any  measure  of  its  own, 
embarrasses  and  alarms  an  inexperienced  ministry,  by  incessant 
fault-finding,  to  such  a  degree,  that  it  may  be  almost  said  indi- 
rectly to  govern  the  country.  This  party  has  been  all  along 
urging  the  government  to  slip  its  leading-strings  and  to  right 
itself  by  itself,  even  at  the  risk  of  having  to  tilt  against  all 
Europe.  It  seems  to  me  easy  enough  to  foresee  the  immediate 
result  of  this  Quixotic  policy,  should  it  be  adopted,  if  not  all  its 
consequences.  The  question  would  soon  be  whether  France 
should  have  this  barrier  of  the  Rhine  ;  but  I  am  very  sure  no 
Belgian  plenipotentiary  would  assist  at  the  future  congress  by 
which  the  question  would  be  settled,  whether  affirmatively  or 
otherwise. 

A  very  superficial  glance  at  the  present  temper  and  situation 
of  Europe  will,  I  think,  be  enough  to  satisfy  an  impartial  spec- 
tator that  its  policy  is  peace,  and  peace  not  sought  in  the  spirit 
of  peace,  but  (paradoxical  as  it  may  be)  of  a  deep  and  settled 
hostility.  Undoubtedly,  there  is  no  example  of  a  dynasty  more 
thoroughly  detested  by  men  who  differ  in  every  thing  else,  than 
that  of  Louis  Philippe.  The  republican  party  in  France,  which 
might  have  prevented  his  being  a  king,  but  chose  rather  to  give 
him  the  name,  as  they  fondly  thought,  without  the  power,  have 
been  disappointed  in  what  a  little  reflection  might  have  taught 
them  were  most  extravagant  and  even  contradictory  expecta- 
tions. To  hope  to  govern  France  and  Frenchmen  without  a 
strong  executive, — call  the  government  what  you  will  and  or- 
ganize it  as  you  may, — is  the  greatest  of  all  practical  absurdities, 
and  I  own  I  am  at  a  loss  to  see  wherein  consists  that  glaring 
breach  of  promise  and  departure  from  principle  of  which  the 
present  administration  in  that  country  is  accused.     Be  that  as  it 


172  DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE. 

may,  however,  the  democratic  or  revolutionary  party  there  and 
all  over  Europe  looks  upon  the  king  as  an  apostate  from  all  his 
professions,  while  the  despotic  courts  and  their  dependents,  on 
the  other  hand,  would  declare  a  war  of  extermination  against 
him,  if  they  durst,  for  an  apostacy  of  a  different  sort.  The 
revolt  of  Poland  no  doubt  prevented  a  general  conflagration, 
which,  at  that  time,  would  have  been  terrific,  because  it  would 
have  sprung  out  of  a  struggle  for  life  and  death  between  the 
principles  of  legitimacy  and  revolution.  Since  that  period  there 
has  been  a  reaction  in  favor  of  order,  and  even  many  of  the 
stoutest  champions  of  constitutional  government  seem  to  think 
it  more  in  danger  from  the  despotism  of  anarchy  than  from  that 
of  thrones.  The  course  of  the  French  government,  too,  on 
which  every  thing  in  European  politics  now,  more  than  ever, 
depends,  has  been  such  as  to  reconcile  the  conference  to  its  ex- 
istence, at  least  so  far  as  to  acquiesce  in  it  for  the  present  and 
wait  events,  rather  than  run  the  risk  of  exciting  the  fearful  spirit 
of  the  revolution  again  by  an  i]l-timed  attack  upon  the  most 
remarkable  of  its  works.  The  fear  of  the  liberal  party,  first,  at 
Paris,  and,  by  its  influence  there,  throughout  the  rest  of  Europe, 
seems  to  me  to  be,  just  now,  the  great  preservative  of  peace, 
which  is  thus,  as  you  perceive,  merely  an  armed  neutrality,  but 
for  that  very  reason,  perhaps,  less  likely  to  be  disturbed  than  if 
it  was  only  protected  by  the  usual  safeguards.  It  is  obvious, 
however,  that  such  a  state  of  things  throws  every  thing  into  the 
hands  of  the  great  powers,  and  makes  the  independence  of  the 
others  little  more  than  nominal.  It  does  not  suit  the  five  arbiters 
of  Europe  to  go  to  war ;  if  a  minor  power,  therefore,  insists 
upon  settling  a  controversy  of  its  own  by  force  of  arms,  they 
have  only  to  adopt,  in  their  discretion,  measures  to  make  it 
harmless  to  themselves,  and,  perchance,  as  in  the  case  of  Poland, 
useful.  A  number  of  States,  in  the  neighborhood  of  each  other, 
form  a  society  whether  they  will  it  or  not.  On  our  continent, 
the  community  has  hitherto  been  directed  by  the  peaceful  ex- 
pression of  the  opinions  and  will  of  a  majority  of  the  States 
that  compose  it :  in  Europe,  where  sovereignty  is  more  refrac- 
tory and  submits  only  to  the  sword,  the  compulsory  confedera- 
tion is  absolutely  controlled  by  a  very  few  of  its  most  powerful 
members. 

I  send  you  copies  of  the  letter  of  the  minister  of  foreign  af- 
fairs ad  interim,  notifying  to  me  the  birth  of  a  prince,  and  of 
my  answer.  It  is  the  first  occasion  I  have  had  to  express,  in  a 
formal  manner,  what  I  believe  to  be  the  sentiment  of  our  people 
and  the  principle  of  its  government,  and  on  that  account,  how- 
ever  brief  and  casual  the  communication,  I  think  it  proper  to 
submit  it  to  you.         I  have  the  honor  to  be,  etc., 

[Signed]  H.  S.  Legare. 


DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE.  173 


Legation  of  the  United  States,      > 
Brussels,  8th  Sept.,  1833.  $ 

To  the  Hon.  Louis  McLank, 

Secretary  of  State  of  the  United  States— 

/Sir, — With  respect  to  the  treaty  you  will  have  received  my 
dispatch  No.  17,  in  which  I  mention  what  the  king  said  to  me 
upon  that  subject  incidentally  at  Court.  As  many  weeks  have 
elapsed,  however,  I  thought  it  well  to  lose  no  time  in  calling 
upon  the  minister  of  foreign  affairs  for  a  definitive  answer,  the 
more  especially  as  their  not  having  received  their  copy  of  the 
treaty  seemed  to  me  to  imply  a  degree  of  carelessness,  on  the 
part  of  their  envoy,  which  was  hardly  excusable.  I  accordingly 
addressed  to  Count  F.  de  Merode,  who,  in  Gen.  Goblet's  absence, 
is  charged  ad  interim  with  the  portfolio  of  foreign  affairs,  the 
subjoined  note : 

Mr.  Legare  to  Count  Felfx  de  Mdrode,  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs  of  H.  M.  the 
King  of  the  Belgians,  ad  interim. 

Legation  of  the  U.  S.  of  America,      } 
Brussels,  26th  Aug.,  1833.  $ 

The  undersigned,  Charge  d'Affaires  of  the  United  States,  has  the  honor, 
in  compliance  with  express  instructions  from  his  government  to  that  effect, 
of  calling  the  attention  of  Count  F.  de  Merode  to  the  subject  of  a  treaty 
of  amity  and  navigation,  concluded  at  Washington,  on  the  23d  January 
last,  between  Mr.  Livingston,  Secretary  of  State  of  the  United  States, 
and  Baron  Behr,  Minister  resident  of  H.  M.  the  King  of  the  Belgians. 

The  undersigned,  by  reference  to  the  treaty  in  question,  transmitted  to 
him  by  the  Secretary  of  State,  perceives  that  the  ratification  of  it  by  the 
respective  parties  are  to  be  exchanged  within  the  present  year,  and  he  is, 
therefore,  not  surprised  that  some  solicitude  is  felt  by  his  government  to 
know  what  steps  have  been  taken  here  towards  the  fulfilment  of  that  stipu- 
lation. The  undersigned  is  entirely  persuaded  that  the  silence  of  H.  M's. 
minister  hitherto  upon  the  subject  of  this  treaty,  is  owing  to  any  thing  but 
indifference  to  its  objects  or  a  disapprobation  of  its  provisions ;  and  it  will 
give  him  sincere  pleasure  to  be  able  to  convey  that  assurance  to  his  gov- 
ernment, on  the  authority  of  an  official  communication  of  H.  M's.  Minister 
of  Foreign  Affairs. 

The  undersigned  avails  himself  of  this  opportunity  to  repeat  to  Count 
F.  de  Merode  the  assurances  of  his  distinguished  consideration. 

[Signed]  H.  S.  Legare. 

This  note  having  been  submitted  to  the  king  in  council,  I 
received,  some  days  after,  the  following  answer  : 

Answer  of  Count  F.  de  Merode. 

Ministere  des  Affaires  Etrangeres,      > 
Bruxelles,  5th  Sept.,  1S33.  $ 
Monsieur  le  Charge  d'Affaires, — J'ai  en  l'honneur  de  recevoir  la  com- 
munication officielle  que  vous  avez  bien  voulu  m'  addresser  sous  la  date 
du  26  du  mois  dernier,  relativement  au  traite  d'amitie  et  de  navigation 


174  DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE. 

conclu  ii  Washington  1c  26  Jan.  dernier,  entrc  M.  Livingston,  Secretaire 
d'Etat  des  Etats  Unis,  et  M.  le  Baron  Behr.  Ministre  resident  de  S.  M. 

Vous  n'ignorez  pas,  M.  le  Charge  d'Atlaires,  les  circonstances  inde- 
pendantes  de  notre  volonte,  qui  ont  suivi  l'envoi  de  le  document. 

L'instrument  du  traite  est  parvenu  depuis  peu  de  jours  seulement  au 
gouvernement  du  Roi. 

II  a  ete  transmis  ;\  Bruxelles  par  M.  le  General  Goblet  qui  l'avait  recu 
tout  reccmment  a  Londres. 

Maintenant  son  contenu  est  sousmis  a  l'examen  du  Roi.  S.  M.,  dont 
j'ai  pris  les  ordres,  desire  M.  le  Charge  d'Atlaires,  que  la  resolution  finale 
soit  remise  antant  que  possible,  a  l'cpoque  on  M.  le  General  Goblet  sera 
de  retour  a  Bruxelles.  En  me  chargeant  de  vous  communiquer  ses  inten- 
tions, elle  m'a  invite  a  vous  exprimer  en  m6me  temps  le  regret  qu'  elle 
eprouve  de  ce  nouveau  retard. 

Agreez,  M.  le  Charge  d'Affaires,  l'assurance  de  la  consideration  la  plus 
distinguee. 

[Signe]  Le  Ministre  d'Etat  charge  par  intcnn  du  Portfeuille  des 

Affaires  Etrangeres, 

Comte  Felix  de  Merode. 

I  confess  I  was  not  satisfied  with  this  answer ;  and  the  sus- 
picions which  I  formerly  entertained,  but  which  had  been  in  a 
good  degree  removed  by  the  casual  conversation  I  had  upon  the 
subject  with  King  Leopold,  in  May  or  June,  (who  had  already 
seen  the  copy  of  the  treaty  sent  to  me,)  were  awakened  anew. 
The  incident,  which  I  had  the  honor  of  mentioning  in  No.  15, 
shews  that  the  bare  report  of  such  a  treaty  had  given  serious 
umbrage  in  a  certain  quarter,  and  as  there  is  no  little  want  of 
decision  in  the  councils  of  this  still  unsettled  government, — 
which,  indeed,  cannot  be  considered  as  snijiwis  while  its  desti- 
nies are  so  absolutely  controlled  by  others, — nothing  seemed 
more  probable  than  that  the  doings  of  the  inexperienced  envoy 
had  been  disavowed  in  the  manner  there  mentioned.  Why  else 
should  there  be  any  hesitation  at  all  in  ratifying  what,  as  you 
justly  observe,  comes  within  the  very  letter  of  his  instructions? 
I  thought  it,  therefore,  expedient  to  write  a  short  rejoinder  to 
<  Jount  F.  de  Merode's  note,  in  which,  without  seeming  to  enter- 
tain the  smallest  suspicion  of  any  such  embarrassment  on  the 
part  of  the  government,  I  should  pretty  broadly  hint  that  its 
refusing  to  ratify  would  be  considered  by  the  President  as  an 
event  so  entirely  unlooked  for  as  to  require  a  very  full  explana- 
tion.    I  accordingly  sent,  yesterday,  the  subjoined  note : 

Legation  of  the  U.  S.  of  America, 
Brussels,  7th  Sept.,  1833. 

The  undersigned,  Charge  d'Atlaires  of  the  United  States  of  America, 
has  had  the  honor  to  receive  Count  Felix  de  Merode's  note  in  answer  to 
his  own  of  the  26th  ult. 

The  undersigned  was  aware,  from  a  personal  communication  of  Gen. 
Goblet,  (hat  there  had  been  an  extraordinary  delay  in  the  transmission  of 
the  treaty  from  H.  M's.  envoy  in  the  United  States,  and  had   accordingly 


DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE.  175 

informed  his  government  of  the  circumstance  as  soon  as  it  came  to  his 
own  knowledge.  But  an  interval  of  many  weeks  having  elapsed  since 
the  conversation  referred  to.,  he  felt  it  to  be  his  duty  to  lose  no  time  in 
complying  with  the  President's  instruction  that  he. should  address  to  the 
Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs  the  inquiry  which  he  has  had  the  honor  to 
make,  and  should  respectfully  but  earnestly  request  the  final  decision  of 
H.  M.  upon  the  subject.  The  President  was  the  more  surprised  at  this 
delay  because  of  the  pressing  manner  in  which  the  negotiation  was  in- 
vited and  the  basis  of  the  treaty  (in  its  present  shape)  proposed  by  Baron 
Behr, — to  say  nothing  of  the  obviously  salutary  and  equitable  principles 
of  public  law  embodied  in  it, — did  not  permit  him  to  doubt  that  what  that 
minister  had  done  was  strictly  within  his  powers  and  instructions,  and' 
would  be  unhesitatingly  ratified  by  his  government. 

Under  the  pleasing  persuasion  that  no  serious  impediment  stands  in  the 
way  of  a  result,  at  least  as  desirable  to  Belgium  as  to  the  United  States, 
whose  rapidly  growing  power  might  tempt  them  to  enlarge  rather  than 
restrain  the  rights  of  belligerents,  if  they  did  not  think  it  the  true  interest 
of  nations  to  sacrifice  advantages  of  that  sort  to  principles  more  conducive 
to  their  lasting  peace  and  well-being, — the  undersigned  cheerfully  acqui- 
esces in  H.  M's.  desire  that  the  conclusion  of  the  business  be  postponed 
until  Gen.  Goblet's  return.  He,  at  the  same  time,  takes  the  liberty  to  state 
that  it  is  extremely  desirable  he  should  be  able  to  communicate  the  result 
to  his  government  before  the  middle  of  October. 

The  undersigned  avails  himself  of  this  opportunity,  etc. 

[Signed]  H.  S.  Legare. 

And  there  the  matter  rests  for  the  present;  but,  as  I  dine  at 
Court  to-day,  and  shall  not  send  this  dispatch  until  Tuesday,  I 
may  possibly  gather  some  information  on  the  subject  in  the 
meantime,  and  will,  of  course,  communicate  it  to  you. 

With  respect  to  Gen.  Goblet's  absence,  it  is  as  undefmable,  I 
suppose,  as  the  business  which  occasions  it.  He  is  joined  with 
Mr.  Van  de  Weyer  in  the  commission  for  negotiating  with  the 
conference  at  London.  When  those  negotiations  are  to  end,  or 
even  how,  is  as  far  from  being  ascertained  now  as  ever ;  and  I 
thought  it  necessary,  on  that  account,  to  limit  the  delay  to  a 
month.  As  to  the  treaty  being  but  just  the  other  day  submitted 
to  H.  M's.  consideration,  1  happen  to  know  that  it  is  only  a 
diplomatic  pretext, — Gen.  Goblet  having,  as  I  mentioned  to  your 
predecessor,  borrowed  my  copy  of  it  as  long  ago  as  the  20th  of 
May,  with  a  view  to  the  concocting  of  the  speech  from  the  throne 
at  the  opening  of  the  present  session.  And,  by  the  way,  it  de- 
serves mentioning  that  even  this  advantage  did  not  prevent  their 
committing  themselves  most  grossly  before  the  world,  by  repre- 
senting, in  that  speech,  the  reduction  of  our  tariff  on  linen  goods 
as  obtained  by  the  address  of  their  envoy,  and  made  a  stipula- 
tion in  this  very  treaty  ! 

I  personally  like  the  ministry  here,  especially  Gen.  Goblet,  and 
I  do  not  think  that,  upon  the  whole,  the  king  could  better  him- 
self by  a  change,  but  their  total  want  of  experience  and  know- 
ledge in  public  affairs,  and  of  the  self-reliance  which  springs 
from  a  consciousness  of  these  qualities,  exposes  them  daily  to 


176  DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE. 

many  difficulties,  which  they  fall  into  in  endeavoring  to  avoid 
others  not  half  so  serious.  They  have  yet  to  learn  how  essential 
courage  is  to  true  political  prudence. 

10  o'clock,  P.  M. 

It  was  even  as  I  suspected.  At  Court,  this  evening,  I  took 
occasion  to  mention  the  subject  to  M.  Lebcau,  prime  minister, 
who  told  me  the  only  difficulty  was  as  to  a  particular  article,  (he 
did  not  know  which,)  which  would,  it  was  feared,  prove  offcn- 
sive  to  England.  I  replied  I  supposed  it  was  the  provision  that 
the  flag  should  protect  the  cargo, — a  principle  proclaimed  by  all 
the  great  powers  of  Europe  during  the  American  war,  and  which 
no  nation  but  one  possessed  of  a  decided  naval  superiority  had 
any  interest  in  questioning  or  opposing.  He  reminded  me  how 
completely  they  were  in  the  hands  of  England,  until  a  definitive 
treaty  were  signed.  I  then  expressed  myself  with  the  earnest- 
ness and  candor  which  our  previous  communications  warranted, 
declaring  that  a  refusal  to  ratify  a  treaty  of  such  a  character, 
concluded  in  such  a  manner,  would,  under  any  circumstances, 
be  highly  offensive,  but  most  especially  would  it  be  so  if  justified 
by  no  better  reason  than  the  displeasure  which  a  third  power 
might  choose  to  conceive  at  an  agreement  between  two  others 
with  which  it  could  have  nothing  to  do.  That  Great  Britain 
should  affect,  as  she  had  done  in  the  war  of  '56  and  after  the 
rupture  of  the  peace  of  Amiens,  to  interpolate  new  rules  into  the 
law  of  nations,  was  a  piece  of  arrogance  not  to  be  borne  ;  but 
that  she  should  interfere  with  arrangements  by  which  two  inde- 
pendent nations  were  endeavoring  to  prevent  all  future  causes 
of  misunderstanding,  by  mutually  renouncing  the  exercise  of  an 
inconvenient  right,  (if  right  it  is,)  was  going  a  great  deal  farther, 
and  assuming  a  tyrannical  dictatorship,  to  which  no  people  that 
had  the  least  idea  of  what  the  words  national  independence 
mean  could  think  of  submitting  for  a  moment.  He  told  me  he 
would  turn  the  matter  in  his  mind,  and  speak  with  me  farther 
about  it  in  the  course  of  a  few  days. 

You  may  depend  upon  my  doing  all  I  can  to  awaken  the 
ministry  here  to  a  sense  of  the  degradation,  in  the  eyes  of  the 
world,  which  will  be  the  consequence  to  Belgium  of  the  acquies- 
cing in  that  extravagant  and  insolent  pretension  of  Great  Bri- 
tain,— convinced  that  in  doing  so  I  shall  be  giving  a  counsel  in 
which  she  is,  in  every  possible  point  of  view,  more  interested 
than  the  United  States.  It  is  now  very  clear  what  is  meant  by 
waiting  until  Gen.  Goblet's  return.  He  will  not  return  until  a 
definitive  treaty  with  Holland  be  signed,  and  then  the  ministry 
of  King  Leopold  will  probably  ratify  yours, — having  nothing 
more  either  to  fear  or  hope  from  Great  Britain.  In  the  mean- 
time, to  provide  against  all  contingencies,   you  will  do  me  the 


DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE.  177 

favor  to  instruct  me  what  course  is  to  be  pursued,  should  it  be 
proposed  to  omit  the  article  referred  to  or  to  modify  the  treaty  in 
any  other  way. 

I  have  the  honor  to  be,  etc., 

[Signed]  H.  S.  Legare. 


Legation  of  the  United  States,     > 
Brussels,  9th  Oct,  1833.  $ 

To  the  Hon.  Louis  McLane,  etc., — 

Sir, — With  this  dispatch  I  also  send  copies*  of  some  notes 
that  have  passed  between  this  legation  and  the  department  of 
foreign  affairs.  The  first  two  are  on  a  mere  matter  of  etiquette, 
to  which  I  attach  importance  only  because,  and  so  far  forth  as, 
it  is  considered  as  important  by  European  States.  In  that  point 
of  view,  the  relative  dignity  of  the  United  States  may  be  in- 
volved in  a  compliment  paid  or  refused,  and,  where  that  is  the 
case,  I  would  cavil  about  the  ninth  part  of  a  hair. 

Gen.  Goblet,  in  consequence  of  the  suspension  of  the  confer- 
ence at  London,  being  returned  to  Brussels,  I  called  on  him  im- 
mediately in  order  to  come  to  some  understanding  with  him  On 
the  subject  of  the  treaty.  He  was  not  at  the  hotel  of  his  depart- 
ment on  Saturday,  when  I  made  him  my  first  visit,  but  I  saw 
there  and  had  a  long  and  rather  remarkable  conversation  with 

*    Count  F.  de  Merode  to  Mr.  Legare". 

Bruxelles,  le  24  Juillet,  1833. 
Monsieur  le  Charge  d) 'Affaires, — Je  m'  empresse  de  vous  informer  de  l'heureuse 
delivrance  de  sa  Majesty  la  Reine  qui  a  donne"  le  jour  a  un  Prince. 

Je  suis  persuade,  M.  le  Charge  d'Affaires,  que  le  gouvernement  des  Etats  Unis 
ne  saurait  etre  indifferent  a  1'eVenement  dont  j'ai  l'honneur  de  vous  faire  part, 
parce  qu'il  est  de  nature  a  consolider  le  nouvel  e"tat  Beige. 
Agre"ez,  M.  le  Charge"  d'Affaires,  l'assurance,  etc. 

Le  Ministre  d'Etat  charge"  par  interim,  etc., 

Comte  Felix  de  Merode. 
A  M.  Legare",  etc.,  etc. 

Mr.  Legare"'s  answer. 

Legation  des  Etats  Unis  d'Amerique,      ) 
Bruxelles,  le  25  Juillet,  1833.  $ 
Monsieur  le  Comte, — J'ai  eu  l'honneur  de  reeevoir  la  note  par  laquelle  vous  m' 
avons  fait  part  de  l'heureuse  delivrance  de  S.  M.  la  Reine. 

J'ose  vous  assurer,  M.  le  Comte,  que  le  plaisir  sensible  que  m'a  fait  un  eVene- 
ment  aussi  touchant  et  dont  la  tendance  a  consolider  les  institutions,  que  le 
peuple  Beige  vient  d'e"tablir  avec  autant  de  sagesse  que  de  bonheur,  est  si  import- 
ante,  ne  manquera  pas  de  trouver  de  l'echo  parmi  le  peuple  Ame>icain,  qui,  sans 
se  meler  jamais  des  affaires  inte"rieures  des  pays  Strangers,  ne  laisse  pas  de  s'in- 
te"resser  vivement  au  sort  de  tous  les  gouvernments  constitutionnels  quelque 
soit  d'ailleurs  leur  cate"gorie  politique. 
Je  vous  prie,  M.  le  Comte,  d'agre"er  l'assurance  etc. 

Le  Charge  d'Affaires  des  Etats  Unis  d'Amerique, 
(Signe")  H.  S.  Legare. 

vol.  i. — 23 


178  DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE. 

the  Secretary-General  (a  sort  of  head  clerk,  I  believe)  of  the 
department,  M.  Nothomb,  author  of  the  Essay  on  the  Belgian 
Revolution,  which  I  have  sent  you,  who  is  considered  as  a  young 
man  of  great  promise,  and,  especially,  as  better  versed  in  the 
diplomatic  relations  of  his  government  than  any  other  of  their 
public  men.  He  is,  besides,  a  leading  member  of  the  Chamber 
of  Representatives.  I  characterize  him  thus  particularly  for 
reasons  that  will  be  obvious  in  the  sequel.  After  apologising  for 
the  absence  of  Gen.  Goblet,  he  entered  into  conversation  with 
me  on  the  subject  of  the  treaty,  in  the  course  of  which  he  gave 
me  very  clearly  to  understand  that  the  government  here  is  in  the 
most  pitiable  embarrassment  imaginable,  between  the  irrevocable 
act  of  its  envoy  at  Washington  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  high 
displeasure  of  England  on  the  other.  I  told  you  in  my  last  that 
M.  Lebeau,  the  virtual,  if  not  the  titular  head  of  the  ministry 
here,  had  confessed  as  much,  but  he  did  so  in  very  general 
terms.  M.  Nothomb,  on  the  contrary,  dwelt  and  in  detail  upon 
the  precipitancy  of  Behr,  and  let  out  some  things  that  made  me 
think  more  seriously  of  the  whole  affair  than  I  had  been  dis- 
posed to  do  at  first.  Thus,  he  pointed  out  what  he  considered 
as  the  flagrant  inconsistency  of  his  signing  such  a  definition  of 
blockade  at  Washington,  at  the  very  time  that  the  combined 
fleets  of  England  and  France  were  violating  the  principles  em- 
braced in  it,  avowedly  and  solely  for  the  benefit  of  Belgium.  I 
could  not  help  observing  to  him  that  I  had  not  before  been  led 
to  think  that  the  blockade  last  winter  was  a  mere  blockade  by 
proclamation,  and  said,  if  that  were  the  fact,  it  did,  indeed,  seem 
a  little  ungracious  in  Belgium  to  be  denouncing  by  implication, 
at  least,  the  very  means  by  which  she  was  profiting,  although, 
as  the  arbitrating  powers  had  taken  the  whole  matter  into  their 
own  hands,  she  could  not  strictly  be  held  responsible  for  the 
character  or  the  use  of  those  means.  As  to  that  he  thought  dif- 
ferently,— repeated  that  the  blockade  was  merely  constructive, 
(fictif,) — and  seemed  so  deeply  to  deplore  the  ill-advised  forward- 
ness of  the  envoy,  that  I  began  to  think  they  were  going  seri- 
ously to  maintain  the  principle  of  which  they  had  found  the 
first  fruits  so  very  palatable.  I  had  not  been  before  aware  that 
any  objection  to  the  treaty  had  been  taken  by  the  English  gov- 
ernment on  that  ground,  which  really  appeared  to  me  too  clear 
for  controversy,  but  it  occurred  to  me  now  that  England  might 
choose  to  avail  herself  of  the  immense  ascendant,  which  the 
present  situation  of  the  Continent,  and  especially  her  close  alli- 
ance with  France,  have  given  her,  to  indemnify  herself  for  any 
trouble  or  expense  she  may  be  put  to  for  defending  the  liberties 
of  mankind  on  terra  Jirma,  by  narrowing  them  down  as  much 
as  possible  at  sea.  I  seriously  assure  you  that  I  am  very  much 
impressed  with  the  gravity  of  the  subject  in  this  point  of  view. 


DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE.  179 

I  should  not,  from  the  success  of  this  first  experiment,  be  at  all 
surprised  to  find  her  law  of  prize  gain  ground  pari  passu  with 
the  triumph  of  constitutional  principles  on  the  continent.  France 
and  England  are  arbiters  of  this  part  of  Europe  under  existing 
circumstances.  They  abandon  the  North  to  the  three  other 
powers,  but  every  thing  on  this  side  the  Alps  and  the  Rhine 
seems,  for  the  present,  to  be  given  up  to  them,  and  to  divide 
between  themselves  the  land  and  the  sea  may  be  the  most  effi- 
cacious as  the  most  simple  means  of  perpetuating  that  good 
understanding  by  which  they  rule  so  absolutely. 

To  talk  of  the  independence  of  these  minor  powers,  under 
existing  circumstances,  is  to  be  guilty  of  the  grossest  abuse  of 
terms.  I  told  M.  Nothomb  as  much,  and  hinted  darkly  that 
the  world  might  begin  to  ask  what  was  gained  for  the  dignity 
of  human  nature  by  establishing  nations  that,  after  all,  could 
never  be  sui  juris.  He  replied  to  this  that  he  felt  all  the  force 
of  the  remark,  and  knew  what  denunciations  they  must  be  pre- 
pared to  meet  with  for  this  (as  it  appears  to  me)  deplorable  but 
inevitable  subserviency.  He  mentioned  to  me  some  things  which 
showed  how  much  the  subject  of  discussion,  or  rather  of  indig- 
nant reprobation,  the  exercising  even  of  so  much  free  will,  as  is 
implied  in  concluding  a  treaty  so  perfectly  innocent,  had  been  at 
London.  Some  member  of  the  House  of  Commons,  for  instance, 
asked  Lord  Palmerston  whether  Holland,  meaning  Belgium,  had 
not  negotiated  a  treaty  with  the  United  States  on  principles  in- 
consistent with  the  maritime  pretensions  of  Great  Britain.  The 
blunder  of  this  bungling  politician  enabled  the  secretary  to  get 
out  of  the  difficulty  by  a  simple  negative  ;  but,  while  he  congra- 
tulated himself  and  the  cause  on  the  lucky  escape,  he  seems  to 
have  given  that  government  to  understand  how  much  displeased 
he  was  at  having  been  exposed  to  the  peril,  and  how  necessary 
it  was  that  they  should  save  him,  forever,  from  the  recurrence 
of  it.  I  must  add,  while  on  this  topic,  that  the  information,  I 
mentioned  that  Sir  Robert  Adair  had  received,  of  what  had  been 
done  at  Washington,  long  before  I  had  heard  any  thing  about  it, 
came,  says  M.  Nothomb,  through  Mr.  Bankhead, — a  fact  which 
shews  the  necessity  of  greater  discretion  in  our  diplomatic  af- 
fairs. M.  Nothomb  told  me  the  minister  would  receive  me  on 
Monday,  at  12,  (I  send  a  copy  of  the  note  in  which  he  formally 
announced  it  afterwards,)  and,  in  the  meantime,  begged  me  to 
consider  how  a  request  to  prolong  the  term  allowed  for  an  ex- 
change of  ratifications  would  be  received  at  Washington.  I 
replied  that,  in  the  very  embarrassing  situation  of  this  country, 
if  its  ministry  thought  it  consistent  with  what  they  owed  to  its 
rights  and  its  honor  to  make  that  request, — especially  consider- 
ing the  accidental  delay  in  the  transmission  of  their  copy  of  the 
treaty,— I  was  disposed  to  think,  though  I  had  no  sort  of  author- 


180  DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE. 

ity  for  saying  so,  that  the  proposal  might  possibly  be  received 
with  indulgence. 

On  Monday,  I  called  at  12,  according  to  appointment,  and  was 
received  by  General  Goblet,  who  began  by  telling  me,  in  a  very 
positive  manner,  that  they  had  determined  to  apply  to  you  for  a 
prolongation  of  the  term.  I  replied  that,  if  that  were  their  de- 
termination. I  had  nothing  more  to  say  upon  the  subject, — my 
instructions  being  only  to  urge  the  immediate  ratification  ;  but 
I  would  take  the  liberty  of  stating,  with  great  frankness,  my 
views,  as  well  as  those  I  believed  my  government  to  entertain  in 
relation  to  the  several  points  in  question, — beginning,  as  I  had 
done  with  M.  Nothomb,  by  drawing  a  wide  distinction  between 
the  declining  to  negotiate  any  treaty  at  all,  and  the  refusing  to 
ratify  one  already  concluded,  in  compliance  with  explicit  instruc- 
tions, and  at  the  pressing  instance  of  the  very  party  so  refusing, 
especially  if  there  be  ground  to  suspect  that  its  conduct  had 
been  influenced  by  respect  for  a  third  power.  Upon  this  being 
so  broadly  intimated,  (for  both  M.  Lebeau  and  M.  Nothomb 
had  confessed  the  fact  of  such  influence  having  been  attempted 
to  be  used,  with  all  the  naivete  in  the  world,)  he  assured  me  I 
was  quite  mistaken, — that  they  had  no  idea  of  maintaining  the 
legality  of  constructive  blockades, — that  their  objections  to  the 
treaty  were  that  it  was,  on  the  one  hand,  incomplete  in  some  of 
its  practical  provisions,  while,  on  the  other,  it  dealt  too  profusely 
in  vague  generalities,  which,  being  already  a  part  of  the  common 
law,  it  was  superfluous  and  even  worse  to  insert  into  a  conven- 
tion of  the  kind,  etc.,  etc.  I  saw  that  Gen.  G.,  like  a  more  wary 
diplomatist,  was  rather  shocked  at  the  unguarded  confessions  of 
his  colleagues,  and  would  fain  remove  the  impression  they  might 
have  made  upon  me.  I  thought  it  as  well  to  let  him  have  his 
way  in  that  respect,  while  I  proceeded  to  shew  that,  whatever  he 
or  I  might  think  of  a  declaratory  treaty,  the  matter  of  fact  was 
that  in  all  those,  with  hardly  an  exception,  into  which  the  Uni- 
ted States  have  hitherto  entered  with  other  nations,  precisely 
such  articles  as  those  so  much  censured  in  the  one  in  question 
are  to  be  found.  I  thereupon  handed  him  a  list  of  references  to 
them  as  they  are  published  in  Elliot's  Diplomatic  Code,  which  I 
had  previously  sent  to  his  office.  To  shew  him  the  light  in 
which  you  regarded,  and  had  good  reason  to  regard,  their  hesi- 
tation to  ratify,  I  sent  him  a  great  part  of  your  last  letter  to  me 
on  the  subject,  and  especially  the  extract  from  his  instructions 
which  Baron  Behr  was  so  unguarded  as  to  show  to  Mr.  Living- 
ston. I  dwelt  very  much  upon  the  disinterested  conduct  of  the 
United  States  in  this  whole  matter  of  maritime  warfare,  in  which, 
although  we  might  promise  ourselves  as  rich  a  harvest  of  spoils 
as  any  other  nation,  and  more  than  any  but  England,  it  had  been 
our  systematic  and  unceasing  effort  to  abolish  those  barbarous 


DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE.  181 

practices,  which  had  been  long  ago  exploded  on  land,  and  which 
were  a  reproach  to  so  civilized  an  era.  He  seemed  to  think  we 
should  never  succeed  in  persuading  any  great  maritime  power 
to  adopt  principles  which  would  deprive  it  of  its  chief,  if  not 
only  reward,  the  plunder  of  its  adversaries ;  but  promised  I 
should  hear  from  him  before  Friday,  (day  after  to-morrow,)  when 
I  told  him  I  should  send  off  my  dispatch,  and  wished  to  be  able 
to  communicate  something  precise  and  definitive  to  you.  In  the 
course  of  the  evening  I  reflected  much  upon  the  whole  subject, 
and,  although  still  continuing  to  regard  it  as  involving  far  more 
the  interest  and  credit  of  this  government  than  of  my  own,  I 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  it  was  too  important  an  occasion 
(especially  considering  the  obvious  instrumentality  of  England 
in  preventing  the  completion  of  an  arrangement  between  two 
friendly  States,  to  which  not  a  single  reasonable  objection  can 
be  made)  for  mere  verbal  communications  such  as  I  had  held 
with  the  several  ministers.  I  therefore  sat  down  and  committed 
to  writing  the  following  remarks,  which  I  transmitted  to  the 
department  of  foreign  affairs  this  morning.  (The  two  first  para- 
graphs relate,  as  you  will  perceive,  to  other  matters.) 

Mr.  Legare"  to  Gen.  Goblet. 

Legation  of  the  United  States  of  America,  > 
Brussels,  8th  Oct.,  1833.      $ 

The  undersigned,  Charge  d'Affaires  of  the  United  States  of  America, 
has  the  honor  to  acknowledge  the  receipt  of  Gen.  Goblet's  letter  of  notifi- 
cation on  resuming  the  duties  of  the  Department  of  Foreign  Affairs,  and 
begs  to  assure  him  that  the  pleasure  he  has  been  so  kind  as  to  express  at 
the  renewal  of  their  official  relations  is  most  sincerely  reciprocated. 

The  undersigned  avails  himself  of  this  opportunity  to  call  the  attention 
of  Gen.  Goblet  to  a  note — relative  to  a  claim  of  an  American  captain, 
whose  ship  was  stranded  in  a  recent  gale  on  the  coast  near  Ostend,  to  be 
exempted  from  duties  for  the  articles  saved  from  destruction  and  sold  for 
the  benefit  of  the  owners — which  was  addressed  by  the  undersigned  to 
Count  Felix  de  Merode  the  day  before  Gen.  Goblet's  return  to  Brussels 
was  announced  in  the  newspapers.  All  the  information  possessed  by  the 
undersigned  upon  the  subject  having  been  communicated  in  that  note  and 
the  accompanying  documents,  the  undersigned  craves  leave  to  refer  Gen. 
Goblet  to  them,  and  to  request  him,  as  a  special  favor  to  himself,  to  let 
him  know  the  result  of  the  application  as  soon  as  may  be  consistent  with 
the  forms  of  office  and  the  nature  of  the  case.  The  unfortunate  claimant, 
who  is  living,  out  of  employment,  upon  the  little  he  has  saved,  does  not 
feel  at  liberty  to  return  to  his  country  without  being  able  to  justify  himself, 
should  he,  contrary  to  what  he  says  is  the  law  and  the  usage  of  Belgium, 
be  compelled  to  pay  the  duties  in  question,  by  producing  an  express  deci- 
sion of  the  government  to  that  effect. 

The  undersigned  begs  leave,  also,  to  be  permitted  to  say  a  few  words 
on  the  interesting  subject  of  the  conversation  he  had  the  honor  of  holding 
yesterday  with  Gen.  Goblet.  Having  since  reflected  much  and  seriously 
upon  its  importance,  he  feels  it  to  be  his  duty,  before  this  government  has 
taken  any  irrevocable  step  in  the  matter,  to  submit,  in  writing,  a  very  sum- 
mary statement  of  his  views  in  regard  to  it. 


182  DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE. 

And,  in  the  first  place,  he  would  remind  Gen.  Goblet  of  the  manner  in 
which  the  negotiation  was  invited  by  this  government, — of  the  inptructions 
given  to  its  plenipotentiary, — and  of  the  conduct  of  that  minister  in  urging 
the  consummation  of  a  work,  which  it  seemed  to  be  the  principal  object  of 
his  mission  to  accomplish,  by  at  once  proposing  a  projet  diflering  in  no 
essential  particular  from  the  treaty  finally  agreed  on,  and  (that  the  Amer- 
ican government  might  understand  that  by  rejecting  any  of  its  provisions 
it  would  be  disappointing  the  expectations  of  a  friendly  State)  by  commu- 
nicating to  the  Secretary  of  State  an  extract  from  the  instructions  of  H. 
M's.  then  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs,  so  explicit  as  to  leave  no  room  for 
doubt  but  that-the  projet  so  offered  was  within  their  spirit  and  even  their 
very  letter.  It  is  true  that  the  right  of  declining  to  ratify  was,  as  usual, 
reserved,  but  the  undersigned  trusts  he  will  be  excused  lor  justifying,  in 
anticipation,  the  impression  which,  he  fears,  will  be  made  at  Washington 
by  the  unexpected  exercise  of  that  right  in  the  present  instance,  by  citing 
a  venerable  authority  to  shew  "that  to  refuse  with  honor  to  ratify  what  has 
been  concluded  on  by  virtue  of  a  full  power  it  is  necessary  that  the  sove- 
reign should  have  strong  and  solid  reasons,  and  that  he  should,  especially, 
be  able  to  prove  that  his  minister  has  deviated  from  his  instructions." 
Cases  might  easily  be  put  in  which  such  a  refusal  would  be  accompanied 
with  irreparable  harm  to  the  other  party,  and  would,  therefore,  amount  to 
a  flagrant  violation  of  justice.  That  the  case  in  question  is  not  such  a 
one  does  not  in  the  least  affect  the  right  or  the  duty  of  the  undersigned  to 
enter  a  protest  against  the  principles  involved  in  it,  and  to  assure  General 
Goblet  that  should  the  proposal  (which  he  yesterday  declared  his  intention 
to  make  to  the  President  through  Baron  Behr)  to  prolong  the  term  limited 
for  the  exchange  of  ratifications  be  acceded  to  by  the  government  of  the 
United  Slates,  it  will  be  a  most  striking  proof  of  its  moderation  as  well  as 
of  the  lively  interest  which  the  American  people  feel  in  the  welfare  of  a 
free  State  just  admitted  into  the  family  of  nations,  and  still  struggling 
with  the  difficulties  of  a  position  not  definitively  ascertained. 

The  undersigned  had  the  honor,  in  the  conversation  alluded  to,  to  state 
the  views  of  his  government  as  to  the  two  great  principles  of  public  law 
embodied  in  the  treaty,  about  which  alone  there  seems  to  be  any  hesita- 
tion on  the  part  of  this  government.  It  is,  therefore,  unnecessary  for  him 
to  do  more,  in  the  present  communication,  than  barely  to  repeat  the  obser- 
vation that,  although  both  of  them  are  equally  demanded  by  the  advanced 
civilization  of  the  times,  yet,  as  mere  points  of  doctrine,  they  stand  upon 
very  different  grounds.  The  principle  that  "free  ships  make  free  goods", 
may  be  still  subject  to  controversy,  although  all  the  great  powers  of  the 
European  continent,  so  late  as  half  a  century  ago,  recognized  and  declared 
it  to  be  a  settled  maxim  of  the  law  of  nations ;  and  the  undersigned 
shewed,  in  his  conversation  with  Gen.  Goblet,  by  reference  to  a  collection 
of  the  treaties  heretofore  entered  into  by  the  United  States,  that,  with  a 
solitary  exception  or  two,  this  rule  has  been  adopted  in  all  of  them.  When, 
therefore,  a  proposal  to  the  same  effect  was  made  by  the  Belgian  envoy, 
in  conformity  with  express  instructions  from  his  government,  the  President 
had  the  greater  pleasure  in  complying,  as  he  thought,  with  the  wishes  of 
the  friendly  power  inviting  the  negotiation,  because,  in  doing  so,  he  was 
only  conforming  to  the  uniform  practice  of  our  country.  But,  with  regard 
to  the  definition  of  blockade,  the  undersigned  emphatically  repeats  what 
he  had  the  honor  of  saying  yesterday,  that  the  American  government 
considers  the  Law  of  Nations  as  perfectly  clear  on  that  point,  and  that, 
having  already,  in  defence  of  the  incontestable  rights  of  neutrality,  waged 
war  with  the  greatest  maritime  power  in  the  world,  the  undersigned  is 
fully  persuaded  that  it  never  will,  be  the  sacrifice  what  it  may,  consent  to 


DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE.  183 

any  arrangement  by  which  its  unalterable  adherence  to  those  principles 
may  be,  either  directly  or  indirectly,  drawn  into  question. 

The  undersigned  felt  it  incumbent  upon  him,  under  the  circumstances 
of  a  case  which  he  considers  as  a  very  grave  one,  to  submit  this  repre- 
sentation to  the  Minister,  with  a  view,  if  not  of  altering  his  expressed  de- 
termination, at  least  of  preparing  him  for  the  impression  which  the  an- 
nouncement of  it  will  probably  make  at  Washington.  He  does  not 
dissemble,  at  the  same  time,  that  he  is  sincerely  desirous  of  seeing  the 
matter  brought  to  an  amicable  settlement,  and  has  no  doubt  but  that  his 
government  will  do  all  it  can  do,  without  compromising  its  rights  and  its 
dignity,  to  make  that  settlement  as  agreeable  as  possible  to  His  Majesty's 
government,  convinced  that,  in  doing  so,  it  will  be  consulting  the  interests 
of  Belgium  at  least  as  much  as  its  own,  and  strengthening  the  claims  of 
justice  by  the  generosity  of  its  conduct. 

The  undersigned  begs  Gen.  Goblet  to  accept  the  assurance  of  his  high 
consideration. 

[Signed]  H.  S.  Legare. 

You  will  have  remarked  that  I  speak,  in  the  preceding-  note, 
only  of  two  points  of  public  law.  My  reason  for  doing  so  was 
that  no  other  had  been  mentioned  in  our  conversations,  but  I 
have  no  doubt  their  objections  go  to  what  is  agreed  to  in  rela- 
tion to  contraband  and  the  trade  on  the  coasts  or  with  the  colo- 
nies of  belligerents,  as  well  as  to  those  points,  because  England 
is  just  as  jealous  about  her  rule  of  56  as  about  any  other  of  her 
maritime  pretensions,  and  to  know  what  the  Belgian  government 
thinks,  it  seems,  you  must  ask  what  Lord  Palmerston  would 
have  to  say  in  the  House  of  Commons.  I  ought  to  add  that 
Gen.  Goblet  mentioned  we  had  failed  in  our  attempt  to  insert 
'these  same  provisions  into  our  recent  treaty  with  Russia.  I  was 
obliged  to  answer  that  I  could  not  undertake  to  contradict,  how- 
ever I  might  doubt  the  accuracy  of  what  he  said,  not  having 
seen  the  treaty, — a  notable  example,  permit  me  to  remark,  of  a 
very  great  and  prevailing  defect  in  our  diplomatic  communica- 
tions, which  I  have  had  more  than  one  occasion  to  lament  in 
my  own  experience.  *  *  * 

To  return  to  the  treaty, — I  have  to  remark,  in  conclusion,  that 
deeply  interested  as  I  am  in  the  success  of  a  revolution  which 
has  unquestionably  done  much  to  shake  the  confidence  of  the 
autocrats  who,  trampling  into  the  dust  the  far  greater  part  of 
Europe,  are  still  threatening  the  rest  of  it,  I  cannot  shut  my 
eyes  to  the  fact,  demonstrated  by  every  thing  I  have  seen  and 
heard  here  in  the  last  twelve-months,  but  especially  by  recent 
events,  that  it  was  brought  about  without  the  consent,  or  at  least 
co-operation,  of  the  classes  that  have  the  greatest  influence  in 
Belgium.  The  clergy  might  seem  to  be  an  exception,  but  really 
are  not,  for  (as  one  of  them,  a  member  of  the  Chamber  of  Rep- 
resentatives, on  my  asking  him  what  their  agency  in  that  event 
had  been,  remarked  to  me)  they  did  not  ?nake,  but  having  found 
it  made  they  have  hitherto  preserved  it.  I  have  not  time  to  illus- 


184  DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE. 

trate  his  equally  just  and  pregnant  observation  here,  but  assum- 
ing it  for  the  present,  I  proceed  to  observe  that  the  consequence 
of  the  fact  above  stated  is,  if  I  may  be  allowed  the  expression, 
a  total  distrust  of  every  body  in  every  thing.  I  was  led,  at  first, 
to  think  the  Orange  party  a  very  small  and  contemptible  faction. 
I  am  satisfied  now  that  I  greatly  underrated  its  importance  in 
every  point  of  view,  and  especially  as  to  the  influence  of  capital 
and  that  sort  of  connection  between  lord  and  vassal,  or  rather 
patron  and  client,  which  has  been  less  dissolved  in  these  pro- 
vinces than  in  any  part  of  Europe  that  was  much  exposed  to 
the  operation  of  the  revolutionary  regime  of  France  after  '93. 
This  party,  like  the  King  of  Holland  himself,  make  up  in  im- 
placable vindictiveness  and  dogged  obstinacy  what  they  want  in 
strength,  or  wanted  in  activity,  courage  and  skill  in  1830, — and 
they  are  encouraged  to  do  and  to  say  the  most  extraordinary 
things,  by  the  apathy  of  the  rest  of  the  people  and  the  conse- 
quent weakness  of  the  ministry.  These  latter,  to  be  sure,  are 
of  the  liberal  party,  as  it  is  called,  and  so  have  not  the  confi- 
dence of  the  Catholic  leaders,  whose  support  is,  nevertheless, 
absolutely  essential  to  them.  And  thus  it  is  that,  openly  opposed 
by  the  bulk  of  landed  proprietors,  the  merchants,  manufacturers 
and  other  capitalists, — but  feebly  supported  by  the  great  body  of 
the  clergy  and  its  adherents, — and,  with  a  question  involving 
even  the  existence  of  the  government  still  unsettled,  and  depend- 
ing for  a  settlement  absolutely  upon  the  kind  offices,  or  rather 
the  powerful  intervention  of  England  and  France,  no  adminis- 
tration ever  found  itself  in  so  precarious  and  embarrassing  a 
situation,  and,  with  the  best  intentions  (as  I  really  believe)  in  the 
world,  it  is  compelled  to  do  things  for  which  nothing  but  a  want 
of  free  agency  can  furnish  a  sufficient  excuse. 

The  admirable  good  sense  and  firm  character  of  the  king, 
together  with  such  connections  in  Europe  as  made  him  the  only 
possible  choice  of  the  Belgians,  will  probably  triumph  at  last 
over  all  the  difficulties  of  his  position  ;  but  the  conduct  of  his 
government,  meanwhile,  will  often  call  for  indulgence.  I  frankly 
own  I  should  be  pleased  to  see  the  President  extend  it  to  the 
very  extraordinary  case  under  consideration, — without,  of  course, 
making  any  sacrifice  of  the  clear  rights  or  even  the  just  pride  of 
our  country.  But,  of  course,  the  government  is  the  only  proper 
judge  how  far  it  is  proper,  or  even  possible,  to  make  such  a  con- 
cession. 

I  have  the  honor  to  be,  etc., 

[Signed]  H.  S.  Legare. 


DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE.  185 


Legation  of  the  United  States,      } 
Brussels,  11th  Feb.,  1834.  \ 

To  the  Hon.  Louis  McLane,  etc., — 

Sir, — Before  I  proceed  to  inform  you  of  what  I  have  done 
towards  the  fulfilling  of  your  instructions  in  regard  to  the  treaty, 
I  beg  to  be  permitted  to  remark  that  Baron  Behr  seems  to  ima- 
gine, from  the  tenor  of  Gen.  Goblet's  correspondence  with  me 
or  with  him,  that  he  had  been  charged  with  negligence  by  the 
government,  through  me,  for  not  transmitting  their  copy  of  the 
treaty  with  more  expedition.  Whatever  I  may  have  thought  at 
the  time  or  expressed  in  my  dispatches  to  the  government,  you 
are  aware,  from  the  copies  of  my  letters  sent  you,  that  I  did  no- 
thing more,  in  my  correspondence  with  the  Minister  of  Foreign 
Affairs,  than  express  the  surprise  very  naturally  excited  by  their 
long  silence  about  the  existence  of  the  treaty,  and  call  for  such 
an  explanation  of  it  as  we  had  an  undoubted  right  to  demand. 
I  shall  be  very  much  obliged  to  you,  therefore,  if  you  will  do 
me  the  favor  to  assure  M.  Behr  that  his  inference  as  to  any  cen- 
sure, expressed  or  implied,  upon  his  conduct  in  that  correspond- 
ence, is  wholly  without  foundation  in  any  thing  that  I  had 
written.  An  equivocal  expression  in  Gen.  Goblet's  reply  to  one 
of  my  notes,  which  struck  me  at  the  time  as  wholly  gratuitous, 
was  owing,  no  doubt,  to  a  misinterpretation  of  my  meaning,  ex- 
pressed, as  it  was,  in  a  language  foreign  to  him. 

I  lost  no  time,  after  receiving  your  letter,  in  inviting  the  gov- 
ernment here  to  the  negotiations  authorised  by  your  instructions. 
This  I  did  in  a  note,  of  which  the  following  is  a  copy  : 

Mr.  Legare"  to  Count  Felix  de  Merode. 

Legation  of  the  United  States  oj  America, 
Brussels,  13th  Jan.,  1834. 

The  undersigned,  Charge  d'Affaires  of  the  United  States,  has  the  ho'nor 
to  inform  Count  P.  Merode  that,  by  a  despatch  which  he  has  just  received 
from  the  Secretary  of*  State  of  the  United  States,  he  has  been  instructed 
to  declare  to  H.  M's.  government  that,  in  consequence  of  the  explanations 
given  both  by  the  late  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs  and  by  H.  M's.  Minis- 
ter resident  at  Washington,  the  President  has  been  pleased  to  accede  to 
the  proposal  made  by  H.  M's.  government,  to  extend  the  term  for  the  rati- 
fication on  the  part  of  that  government  of  the  treaty  lately  concluded  be- 
tween the  two  governments,  until  the  1st  July  next. 

But,  as  this  common  purpose  of  the  high  contracting  parties  can  now  be 
accomplished  only  by  a  separate  and  independent  convention,  and  Baron 
Behr  has  given  the  American  government  to  understand  that  he  is  not 
furnished  with  the  new  powers  necessary  to  the  negotiating  of  such  a  con- 
vention, the  undersigned  feels  the  liveliest  satisfaction  in  being  able  to  in- 
form Count  Felix  de  Merode  that  he  has  received  from  the  President  a 
full  power  to  treat  upon  the  subject  with  any  person  who  shall  be  duly 
authorised  by  H.  M's.  government  to  enter  into  such  a  stipulation,  and 
that  he  is  ready,  on  his  part,  to  execute  the  single  and  separate  article  in 
vol.  i.— 24 


186  DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE. 

question,  at  what  time  or  place  soever  H.  M's.  government  may  choose  to 
appoint. 

The  undersigned  cannot  but  flatter  himself  that  the  sincere  desire,  thus 
manifested  by  the  President  to  cultivate  and  strengthen  the  amicable  rela- 
tions so  happily  established  between  the  two  countries,  will  be  appreciated 
by  H.  M's.  government,  and  that  the  accidental  delay,  which  has  occurred 
in  the  settlement  of  this  important  business,  will  only  have  made  the  con- 
clusion of  it  the  more  satisfactory  to  both  parties. 
The  undersigned,  etc., 

[Signed]  H.  S.  Legare. 

A  M.  le  Comte  Felix  de  iU erode,  etc. 

Having  every  reason  to  believe  that  the  Belgian  ministry  are 
disposed  to  avail  themselves  of  every  pretext  to  defer  as  long  as 
possible,  if  not  altogether  to  refuse,  the  ratification  in  question, 
I  did  not  choose,  in  a  note  of  which  the  object  was  merely  to 
invite  negotiation,  to  say  any  thing  of  the  additional  prolonga- 
tion of  the  term  necessary  for  the  exchange  of  ratifications.  In 
limiting  the  delay  until  the  1st  July  for  their  action  upon  the 
subject,  we  had  given  them  all  they  had  ventured  to  ask,  and 
quite  as  much  as  they  had  a  right  to  expect.  Some  time  after  I 
had  sent  in  this  note,  I  had  a  casual  conversation  on  the  subject 
with  M.  de  Merode,  who  told  me  they  had  it  under  considera- 
tion, and  would  probably  propose  some  modifications.  Thinking 
it  as  well  to  let  them  state  all  their  objections  formally,  I  did  not 
press  him  to  let  me  know  what  they  were  on  that  occasion  ;  but, 
having  since  received  from  him  no  official  communication  on  the 
subject,  and  wishing  to  be  able  to  give  you  some  information  of 
a  definite  character  in  this  despatch,  I  thought  I  might  venture 
to  send  in  the  subjoined  note,  to  which  I  may  perhaps  have  a 
reply  before  I  send  this  letter : 

Mr.  Legare"  to  Count  Felix  de  M6rode. 

Legation  of  the  United  States  of  America, 
Brussels,  8th  Feb.,  1834. 
The  undersigned,  Charge  d'Aff'aires  of  the  United  States  of  America, 
being  about  to  send  off  despatches  to  his  government,  and  extremely  de- 
sirous to  inform  it,  as  far  as  possible,  what  is  likely  to  be  the  result  of  the 
overture  which,  in  compliance  with  his  instructions,  he  had  the  honor  of 
making,  in  his  note  of  the  13th  ult.,  to  the  acting  Minister  of  Foreign  Af- 
fairs, begs  to  be  permitted  again  to  call  the  attention  of  Count  Felix  de 
Merode  to  the  subject,  for  the  purpose  of  requesting  that,  if  it  can  be  done 
without  putting  H.  M's.  government  to  any  unnecessary  inconvenience,  the 
undersigned  may  be  informed  of  the  order  that  has  been  taken  or  is  like- 
ly to  be  taken  by  it  upon  that  overture.  The  undersigned  is,  at  the  same 
time,  far  from  wishing  to  be  understood  as  either  exacting  with  impatience 
a  precipitate  determination  on  the  part  of  this  government,  or  doubting  in 
the  least  that  its  course  will  ultimately  be  such  as  the  President  has  been 
led  to  expect,  but  as  the  proposal  made  by  him  through  the  undersigned 
was  merely  a  compliance  with  the  wishes  of  H.  M's.  government,  commu- 
nicated in  the  most  explicit  manner,  both  by  the  late  Minister  of  Foreign 
Affairs  at  Brussels  and  by  the  Minister  Resident  of  the  king  at  Washing- 


DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE.  1S7 

ton,  he  will  naturally  look  for  a  ready  acceptance  of  it  here.  The  under- 
signed would,  therefore,  be  most  unwilling,  if  it  can  be  avoided,  to  an- 
nounce, without  explanation,  to  the  President,  that  his  note  of  the  13th  ult. 
has  not  been  answered,  and  thereby,  perhaps,  give  rise  to  doubts  for  which, 
he  flatters  himself  there  is  no  reasonable  foundation,  and  which  a  word 
from  the  official  organ  of  H.  M's.  government  might  at  once  dispel. 
The  undersigned  avails  himself,  etc. 

[Signed]  H.  S.  Legare. 

To  Count  F.  de  Merode,  etc. 

In  a  newspaper,  to  which  I  called  your  attention  some  time 
ago  in  an  unofficial  letter,  you  will  have  read  the  speech  of  an 
opposition  member  of  the  House  of  Representatives,  who  ex- 
pressly charges  the  ministry  with  being  prevented  by  England 
from  ratifying  the  treaty.  I  could  not  imagine  at  the  time 
whence  he  had  got  the  information,  however  ill  dissembled  and 
even  openly  avowed  to  me  the  fact  had  been  by  some  of  the 
ministers  themselves,  but  I  have  since  learned  that  he  had  it  from 
the  best  authority,  which  I  do  not  feel  at  liberty  to  mention.  I 
will  only  add  that,  if  Gen.  Goblet's  absence  from  his  office  was  a 
sufficient  excuse  for  delaying  to  ratify  last  summer,  his  resigna- 
tion and  the  impossibility  of  definitively  supplying  his  place 
ought  to  be  as  good  a  one  now. 

Such  is  the  state  of  public  affairs  here,  that  no  man  of  suffi- 
cient weight  and  character  has  been  found  willing  to  succeed  to 
the  post  which  his  appointment  to  the  mission  at  Berlin  leaves 
vacant.  Anticipating  the  very  thing  that  seems  likely  to  occur, 
viz :  that  the  government  here  would  not  ratify  without  some 
modifications,  and  those  touching  principles  of  the  greatest  pos- 
sible importance,  and  as  little  settled  and  as  much  in  danger 
now  as  when  our  war  was  declared  in  1812,  (with  the  single  ex- 
ception of  impressment,  a  pretension  probably  abandoned  forever 
in  practice,)  I  begged  to  be  instructed  how  to  act  in  that  event. 
Your  despatch,  however,  not  contemplating  that  possibility,  con- 
fines my  power  to  the  execution  of  a  single  article,  and  that, 
(judging  from  the  form  of  the  treaty  with  Mexico,  sent  me  as  a 
model,)  in  effect,  an  adoption  of  the  whole  treaty  as  it  stands, 
and  an  agreement  to  ratify  it  on  or  before  the  1st  July.  Under 
these  circumstances,  1  do  not  feel  myself  at  liberty  to  deviate,  in 
the  least,  from  this  interpretation  of  your  instructions. 

I  have  received  a  copy  of  the  President's  communication  to 
Congress,  on  the  subject  of  our  Consular  establishment.  I  take 
the  liberty  of  a  citizen,  zealous  for  the  honor  of  the  country,  in 
expressing  the  strongest  desire  to  see  that  projet  pass  into  a  law. 
Two  things  are  clear, — 1st,  that  a  Consul  who  is  engaged  in 
commerce  cannot  discharge  his  duties  with  the  requisite  inde- 
pendence and  firmness ;  and,  2d,  that  Consuls  not  engaged  in 
commerce  (except  a  few  favored  ports)  cannot  live  on  fees,  as  the 


188  DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE. 

commercial  agents  of  such  a  country  as  ours  ought.  This  sub- 
ject ought  to  be  again  and  again  pressed  upon  Congress,  until 
the  whole  system  be  changed. 

1  have  the  honor  to  be,  etc., 

[Signed]  H.  S.  Leg  a  re. 


Legation  of  the  United  States,      I 
Brussels,  23d  March,  1834.  \ 

To  the  Hon.  Lnns  McLane, 

Secretary  of  State  of  the  United  States, — 

Sir, — In  my  last  despatch  I  sent  you  copies  of  two  official 
notes  which  1  had  addressed  to  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs, 
in  relation  to  the  power  and  the  instructions  I  had  received  from 
the  President  to  negotiate  a  separate  article  for  prolonging  the 
term  allowed  for  the  ratification  of  the  treaty  on  the  part  of  this 
government,  up  to  the  1st  of  July.  No  answer  had  been  given 
me  up  to  the  1st  of  March,  when  a  casual  allusion  to  the  subject, 
in  conversation  with  Count  Felix  de  Merode,  led  to  my  calling 
on  him  immediately  for  the  purpose  of  having  a  day  appointed 
for  a  full  and  unreserved  conference  between  him  and  his  Secre- 
tary General  (the  M.  Nothomb  of  whom  I  say  so  much  in  my 
despatch  No.  21)  and  myself.  Agreeably  to  the  appointment  then 
made,  I  went  to  the  Foreign  Office  the  next  day  about  noon, 
and,  after  waiting  a  few  moments  for  the  appearance  of  the  min- 
ister and  his  diplomatic  adviser,  found  myself  engaged  with 
them  both,  but  especially  the  latter,  (who,  I  soon  found  out,  was, 
in  truth,  the  head  of  the  department  quoad  hoc.)  in  a  very  ani- 
mated discussion  about  the  rights  of  neutrals  and  belligerents. 

Prepared  as  I  was,  from  rny  former  conversation  with  M.  No- 
thomb, for  any  thing  but  a  satisfactory  result,  it  was  still  impos- 
sible that  I  should  not  be  astonished  at  the  inconceivable  extra- 
vagancies which  he  now  ventured  to  advance  as  settled  doctrines 
of  public  law.  He  went  far  beyond  any  thing  that  was  ever 
heard  in  a  British  Prize  Court,  and,  instead  of  justifying  the 
paper  blockades  of  England  by  the  alleged  necessity  of  the  case, 
as  Sir  Wm.  Scott,  though  half  ashamed  of  the  plea,  confessed 
himself  reduced  to  the  necessity  of  doing,  this  young  publicist 
rested  them  on  what  he  called  the  European  law  of  nations, 
and  repeatedly  contradistinguished  from  the  supposed  projects  of 
innovation  which  he  affected  to  characterise  as  the  American 
system.  You  will  hardly  wonder  to  be  informed  that  I  almost 
lost  my  patience  at  such  a  display  of  profound  ignorance,  coupled 
with  so  much  confidence  and  positiveness ;  and  that  I  told  him, 
until  he  could  produce  a  single  dictum,  however  loose  and  casual, 


DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE.  189 

of  any  jurist  or  publicist  of  the  least  respectability,  on  the  Con- 
tinent, giving  the  shadow  of  countenance  to  such  extraordinary 
positions,  I  must  be  permitted  to  decline,  in  the  name  of  my 
country,  the  invidious  honor  he  ascribed  to  her,  and  request  him 
during  the  rest  o£  the  conversation  to  borrow  an  epithet  for  his 
own  notions  from  the  nation  that,  without  venturing  to  shock 
the  common  sense  of  mankind  by  professing  them  formally  her- 
self, in  the  abstract,  seemed  disposed  to  make  her  weaker  neigh- 
bors reduce  them  to  practice  for  her  benefit,  and  so  might  call 
them,  if  he  pleased,  the  "English  doctrine."  By  the  request  of 
the  Count  de  Merode,  I  had  brought  with  me  in  my  carriage 
Elliott's  collection  of  American  Treaties,  for  the  purpose  of  shew- 
ing him  how  very  usual  the  stipulations,  that  seemed  so  startling 
here,  are  in  our  diplomatic  history.  Beginning  at  the  beginning, 
I  opened  the  treaty  with  France  in  the  course  of  the  revolution- 
ary war,  and  was  proceeding  to  those  with  Holland  and  Prussia, 
etc.,  when  M.  Nothomb,  asking  the  dates  and  learning  them, 
manifested  the  greatest  impatience,  and  put  in  a  sweeping  objec- 
tion to  all  that  had  been  done  at  the  period  of  the  Armed  Neu- 
trality, of  which  he  had  obviously  made  the  acquaintance  with 
a  view  to  this  very  discussion,  and  which,  in  the  hurry  of  a  first 
introduction,  he  had  mistaken  for  a  league  to  change  the  law  of 
nations  by  force,  and  to  defeat  or  destroy  the  maritime  ascendant 
of  England  by  curtailing  her  hitherto  admitted  belligerent  rights. 
To  shew  this  he  read  me  an  extract  from  Schoell,  which  im- 
ported any  thing  else,  as  T  observed  to  him  ;  and,  to  convince 
him  that  the  powers  which  made  that  memorable  declaration 
regarded  it  then,  and  still  adhere  to  it,  as  an  exposition  of  the 
law  of  nations  as  it  stood  and  now  stands,  I  opened  Marten's 
Guide  Diplomatique,  and  begged  him  to  read  the  admirable 
reply  addressed,  in  December,  1800,  by  Count  Bernstoff  to  Sir 
W.  Drummond,  the  English  Charge  d' Affaires  at  Copenhagen, 
who  had  been  instructed  by  his  Court  to  demand  of  that  of  Den- 
mark some  explanation  as  to  the  nature  of  its  negotiations  with 
Sweden  and  Russia.  The  opportunity  was  too  tempting  for  me 
not  to  remark  significantly  to  M.  de  Merode  that  the  letter  of 
the  Danish  minister  was,  in  more  respects  than  one,  applicable 
to  the  present  case,  and  perfect  not  only  as  a  model  of  diplomatic 
composition,  but  as  an  example  of  statesman-like  wisdom  and 
courage. 

In  the  course  of  this  discussion,  M.  Nothomb,  let  it  out  that 
he  stood,  himself,  committed  to  the  doctrine  of  constructive 
blockade,  in  a  speech  he  had  made  about  the  time  of  the  coer- 
cive measures  adopted  by  England  and  France  against  Holland, 
and  he  went  farther  and  insisted,  as  he  had  done  on  a  former 
occasion,  that  Belgium,  by  profiting,  as  he  alleges  that  she  did, 
in  that  instance  by  that  doctrine,  was  estopped  from  disputing 


190  DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE. 

it.  I  replied  that  I  considered  this  government  as  in  no  wise 
responsible  for  the  character  of  the  measures  (even  admitting 
them  to  have  been  such  as  he  represented  them)  which  were 
adopted  by  two  powers  whose  interference  was  their  own  act, 
warranted  (if  at  all)  by  a  law  which  the  conference  they  repre- 
sented had  dictated  to  two  weaker  powers  for  the  benefit  of  all 
Europe, — that  all  that  Belgium  had  done  towards  it  was  to  call 
upon  those  powers  to  enforce  the  treaty  they  had  imposed  on 
her,  or  suffer  her  to  right  herself  by  the  sword, — that  by  under- 
taking, for  great  political  objects,  the  former  part  of  this  alterna- 
tive, they  had  ipso  facto  declared  her  no  party  to  the  proceed- 
ings, etc.  Pressed  in  the  argument,  though  apparently  as  far  as 
ever  from  being  persuaded  by  it,  M.  Nothomb  at  length  took  the 
ground  that  M.  Behr  had  exceeded  his  powers,  and  would,  there- 
fore, be  disavowed,  and,  if  the  President  demanded  it,  sacrificed 
by  his  government.  I  told  him  that  was  quite  a  different  matter, 
and  that  (of  course)  if  he  could  maintain  his  assertion,  (which 
I  had  good  reason  to  doubt,)  H.  M's.  government  would  be  free 
to  do  as  it  pleased.  He  replied  that  he  should  have  no  difficulty 
in  doing  so,  and  promised,  if  I  would  permit  him,  to  call  upon 
me  at  my  house  in  a  few  days,  and  satisfy  me,  by  shewing  me 
the  original  powers  and  instructions  given  to  M.  Behr,  that  he 
was  wholly  unauthorised  to  treat  with  you  about  those  high 
political  questions  which  he  had  been  in  so  much  haste  to  settle. 
The  conversation  after  this  took  a  more  free  and  familiar  turn, 
and  I  endeavored  to  press  upon  them  two  points,  as  to  which 
they  seemed  to  me  to  entertain  very  erroneous  ideas.  The  first 
was  that  the  treaty  was  no  declaration  of  principles,  as  that,  for 
instance,  between  Prussia  and  the  United  States,  but  a  mere 
arrangement  between  two  friendly  nations,  as  to  their  own  con- 
duct towards  each  other,  in  case  either  of  them  should  become 
belligerent,  whatever  might  be  their  rights  and  liabilities  un- 
der the  common  law  of  nations.  For  this  reason,  all  mankind 
would  be  revolted  at  the  arrogance  and  selfishness  of  England 
if  she  ventured  to  express  her  disapprobation  of  so  innocent  an 
act,  much  less  to  do  any  thing  revengeful  towards  Belgium  in 
consequence  of  it.  This,  however,  did  not  seem  to  tranquillize 
the  apprehensions  of  these  gentlemen,  who  appeared  to  have 
good  reason  for  anticipating  that  their  great  maritime  protector 
would  not  scruple  to  leave  them  in  the  lurch  in  any  future  emer- 
gency, unless  she  saw  her  interest  in  delivering  them  manifested 
by  something  less  equivocal  than  treaties  of  amity,  not  censuring 
precisely,  but  then  not  sanctioning  either,  some  of  her  practices 
in  cases  of  pressing  exigency.  The  other  point  was  the  immense 
difference  between  the  prudence  which  avoids  the  possibility  of 
giving  offence,  even  by  an  innocent  act,  to  a  jealous  superior, 
by  abstaining  from  doing  such  an  act,  where  no  paramount  mo- 


DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE.  191 

tive  required  it  to  be  done,  and  the  timidity  which,  after  it  has 
been  done  in  good  faith,  shrinks  back  at  the  frown  of  a  third 
power,  and,  by  retracting  or  disavowing  what  it  had  a  clear  right 
to  do,  confesses,  before  all  mankind,  that  it  has  no  right  to  do 
any  thing  but  what  shall  be  agreeable  to  an  officious  and  dom- 
ineering neighbor.  M.  de  Merode  dropped  something  about  the 
difficulties  of  their  situation,  (which  I  am  not  disposed  to  under- 
rate,) and  that  if  all  were  over  and  peace  and  confidence  estab- 
lished, it  might  be  different,  etc. 

The  conference  took  place  on  the  3d  inst.  The  next  evening 
1  happened  to  meet  with  M.  de  Merode  at  a  party  at  the  Count 
de  Latour  Maubourg's,  (the  French  ambassador's,)  and  was  ral- 
lying him  about  M.  Nothomb's  discoveries  in  the  law  of  nations, 
when  M.  de  Latour  Maubourg  himself  coming  up,  and  hearing 
what  was  the  subject  of  our  conversation,  took  part  in  it  and 
joined  me  heartily  in  ridiculing  the  paper  blockades  of  England 
as  a  system,  for  which  he  cited  the  recent  case  of  her  resistance 
to  Don  Miguel's  attempt  to  shut  up  the  Tagus,  to  shew  how  little 
respect  she  herself  in  reality  entertained  for  it.  He  added,  how- 
ever, pleasantly,  that  he  could  not  wonder  at  Belgium  being  in- 
clined to  favor  the  right  of  instituting  the  only  sort  of  blockades 
that  it  would,  in  all  probability,  ever  be  in  her  power  to  impose. 
I  was  glad  to  hear  him,  speak  thus. 

Not  having  received,  within  a  reasonable  time,  the  promised 
visit  of  M.  Nothomb,  and,  at  the  same  time,  wishing  to  shew 
them  at  once  the  whole  strength  of  the  position  they  had  under- 
taken to  assail,  I  sent  in  the  following  note,  with  an  extract  from 
your  despatch  No.  5  accompanying  it : 

Mr.  Legare"  to  Count  F.  de  Merode. 

Legation  of  the  United  States  of  America,  > 
Brussels,  20th  March,  1834.      \ 

Sir, — Having  waited,  not  without  some  solicitude,  during  a  period  of 
nearly  three  weeks,  for  the  visit  with  which,  in  the  conversation  I  had  the 
honor  of  holding  with  you  and  M.  Nothomb  at  the  hotel  of  your  depart- 
ment, you  promised  I  should  be  speedily  favored  by  the  Secretary  General, 
for  the  purpose,  among  other  things,  of  shewing  me  wherein  M.  Behr  had 
transcended  his  powers  in  his  negotiation  with  Mr.  Livingston,  and  not 
having  hitherto  been  fortunate  enough  to  hear  from  M.  Nothomb  on  the 
subject,  I  am  led  to  suppose  that  you  have  altogether  abandoned  that  in- 
tention, and  the  rather  because  I  have  good  reason  to  think  that  the  fulfil- 
ment of  it  would  have  been  found,  upon  experiment,  more  difficult  than 
you  seemed  to  anticipate.  Under  this  impression,  I  take  the  liberty  of 
again  calling  your  attention,  in  a  formal  manner,  to  the  overture  made  to 
you  in  my  letter  of  the  13th  January,  and  requesting  that  you  will,  as  soon 
as  possible,  consistently  with  your  perfect  convenience,  do  me  the  honor  of 
communicating  to  me  the  purposes  of  His  Majesty's  government  in  regard 
to  it. 

You  will,  I  am  very  sure,  sir,  pardon  whatever  of  impatience  may  seem 
to  be  betrayed  by  me  in  thus  pressing  for  a  distinct  and  definitive  answer, 


192  DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE. 

when  I  remind  you  that  it  is  now  more  than  two  months  since  I  received 
the  instructions,  in  compliance  with  which  I  immediately  made  that  over- 
ture,— that  the  Secretary  of  State  of  the  United  States  appears  to  have 
heen  led,  both  by  the  correspondence  of  Gen.  Goblet  with  me,  and  by  that 
of  M.  Bchr  with  him,  to  anticipate  an  unhesitating  acceptance  of  it, — and, 
since  it  would  be  mere  affectation,  after  what  I  must  be  permitted  to  call 
the  extraordinary  positions  taken  by  M.  Nothomb,  without  any  expression 
of 'dissent  on  your  part,  in  the  conversation  alluded  to,  to  dissemble  that  I 
feel  some  apprehension  lest  that  anticipation,  reasonable  as  it  unquestion- 
ably is,  should  be  disappointed,  that  it  is  become  more  than  ever  my  im- 
perative duty  to  lose  no  time  in  obtaining  and  communicating  to  my  gov- 
ernment the  probable  result  of  the  negotiation,  and  in  giving  it  (should 
that  result,  unfortunately,  be  what  has  been  more  than  hinted  to  me)  a 
full  account  of  the  motives  which  will  have  led  H.  M's.  government  to  dis- 
avow the  solemn  act  of  its  plenipotentiary. 

Meanwhile,  as  I  think  it  due,  not  less  to  II.  M's.  government  than  to  my 
own,  to  shew  to  the  former,  as  distinctly  as  possible,  the  light  in  which  this 
unexpected  conclusion  of  a  negotiation,  so  pressingly  invited  by  itself,  and 
of  which,  in  communicating  that  invitation,  its  plenipotentiary  proposed 
substantially  the  very  terms  and  conditions  now  considered  as  so  objec- 
tionable, will  be  regarded  by  the  latter,  I  annex  to  this  note  an  extract 
from  a  letter  addressed  to  me,  upon  this  subject,  by  the  Secretary  of  State. 
Nothing  I  could  say  would  add  any  thing  to  the  effect  of  this  simple  state- 
ment of  facts. 

I  have  the  honor  to  be,  etc.,  etc., 

[Signed]  H.  S.  Legare. 

This  note  brought  the  following  answer  from  M.  Nothomb  : 

Count  F.  de  Merode  to  Mr.  Legare. 

Ministere  des  Affaires  Etrangeres,  ) 
Bruxelles,  le  27  Mars,  1S34.  $ 
Morisieur  le  Charge  cP Affaires, — En  vous  transmettant  la  note  ci  jointe 
en  date  de  ce  jour  et  ou  j'ai  du  me  borner  a  rappeler  les  faits  proprcs  a 
fixer  la  position  du  gouvernement  du  Iioi,  j'eprouve  le  besoin  de  vous  en- 
tretenir,  en  peu  de  mots,  de  la  position  particuliere  du  plenipotcntiaire 
Beige. 

J'ignore  encore  quels  sont  les  motifs  personnels  qui  ont  porte  le  ministre 
resident  a  Washington  a  donner  une  extension  a  ses  pouvoirs;  j'attends 
des  explications  de  sa  part.  Vous  concevrez,  toutefois,  que  dans  une  ne- 
gotiation de  ce  genre,  ou  tout  etait  nouveau,  il  a  pu,  surtout  a  cette  dis- 
tance des  lieux,  perdre  de  vue  les  raisons  qu'  avaient  motive  le  sens 
restrictif  donne  a  ses  instructions. 
Agreez.  etc. 

Le  ministre  d'etat  charge  par  interim,  etc., 
Comte  F.  de  Merode. 

According  to  this  appointment,  M.  Nothomb  called  upon  me 
this  morning  with  the  ministerial  portfolio,  and  put  into  my 
hands  what,  he  assured  me,  were  the  originals  of  the  powers  and 
instructions  given  to  M.  Behr  when  he  was  about  to  set  out  for 
America.  I  frankly  confess  I  read  these  papers  with  astonish- 
ment, as  1  have  no  doubt  you  will,  and  not  dissembling  to  him 
that  the  determination  to  which  lie  announced  that  II.  M's.  gov 
crument  was  come  was  more  plausible,  at  least,  than  I  had 


DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE.  193 

hitherto  considered  it,  while  I  did  not  conceive  myself  author- 
ised to  discuss  it,  (my  instructions  permitting  me  only  to  agree 
to  an  additional  article  for  a  simple  ratification  on  or  before  the 
1st  of  July,)  I  told  him  I  should  refer  the  whole  matter,  without 
loss  of  time,  to  the  President.  For  this  purpose,  I  requested 
that  M.  de  Merode  would  immediately  favor  me  with  an  official 
answer  to  my  note  of  the  13th  January,  announcing,  in  an  ex- 
plicit manner,  the  determination  of  this  government  not  to  ratify 
without  certain  modifications,  which  would  enable  me  officially 
to  decline,  in  an  equally  explicit  manner,  such  a  ratification,  and 
to  declare  the  negotiation,  so  far  as  I  am  concerned  in  it,  at  an 
end ;  unless,  in  consequence  of  any  propositions  which  I  would 
gladly  be  the  means  of  communicating  to  him,  the  President 
should  see  fit  to  invest  me  with  a  larger  discretion  than  he  has 
hitherto  allowed  me.  This  was  agreed  to,  and,  after  a  good 
deal  of  miscellaneous  conversation,  in  which  I  repeated  that  the 
importance  I  now  attach  to  this  discussion  had  been  altogether 
superinduced  upon  it  by  the  interference  of  England  and  the 
view  which  this  government  seemed  to  take  of  the  question,  (so 
much  more  extravagant  than  any  avowed  doctrines  of  England,) 
M.  Nothomb  took  his  leave.  I  took  care,  in  this  interview,  to 
impress  upon  him  that  what  I  said,  being  the  language  of  one 
not  authorised  (strictly  speaking)  to  discuss  the  subject,  was  al- 
together unofficial  and  nowise  binding  upon  my  government, 
and  that,  of  course,  you  would  be  perfectly  at  liberty  to  take  any 
step  or  maintain  any  position  you  might  see  fit, — that,  although 
it  was  undeniable  that  there  was  an  important  difference  between 
the  phraseology  of  the  fourth  head  of  his  instructions,  (protec- 
tion of  the  Belgian  flag,  etc.,)  as  presented  by  M.  Behr  to  Mr. 
Livingston,  and  that  of  the  same  head  as  exhibited  in  the  docu- 
ment before  me,  especially  when  taken  in  connection  with  the 
context  and  the  example  of  the  treaty  with  the  Hanseatic  Towns, 
by  which  he  was  directed  to  govern  himself,  yet  that  the  expres- 
sion, "protection  of  the  flag",  was,  standing  by  itself,  a  very 
comprehensive  one,  and,  in  negotiations  of  the  sort,  the  party 
with  whom  an  ambassador  treats  is  bound  to  look  only  at  the 
power  he  presents,  not  to  any  secret  understanding  between  him 
and  his  constituents, — that  I  most  unfeignedly  regretted  the  cir- 
cumstance had  occurred,  because  of  the  interest  I  feel  in  the 
honor  and  success  of  the  Belgian  government,  and  because, 
from  the  part  England  had  taken  in  a  matter  that  did  not  con- 
cern her,  I  feared  it  was  calculated  to  excite  strong  feelings  in 
America,  and  could  scarcely  fail  to  create  much  scandal  every 
where, — but  that,  at  any  rate,  I  had  no  doubt  it  would  be  less 
disagreeable  to  our  government  to  find  that  M.  Behr  was  mis- 
taken as  to  the  extent  of  his  powers,  than  that  H.  M's.  ministers 
vol.  i. — 25 


194  DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE. 

had  been  induced,  by  any  more  questionable  motive,  to  disown 
an  act  done  by  him  in  admitted  conformity  to  them. 

March  27. 

M.  Nothomb  called  upon  me  again  to-day,  and  read  and  de- 
livered to  me  a  note  from  Count  Felix  de  Merode,  which,  toge- 
ther with  the  documents  A.  B.  and  C,  is  herewith  transmitted 
to  you.  You  will  perceive  that  this  note  conveys  an  express 
refusal  to  ratify  the  treaty  (or  to  make  any  agreement  about  rati- 
fying it)  except  with  such  modifications,  that  is  to  say,  omis- 
sions, as  will  bring  it  within  what  this  government  considers  as 
the  fair  interpretation  of  the  four  preliminary  points.  What 
these  omissions  are  to  be  is  not  specified,  and  I  am  about  to  send 
in  a  note  in  reply  to  the  Minister's,  of  which  the  object  will  be 
to  decline,  on  the  ground  of  want  of  instructions,  acceding  to 
the  overture  made  by  him  as  to  a  modified  ratification,  and,  at 
the  same  time,  to  request,  for  the  information  of  the  President, 
that  the  objectionable  articles  be  precisely  specified. 

On  looking  more  carefully  than  1  had  time  to  do  at  first  into 
these  documents,  I  am  by  no  means  sure  that  the  fourth  point, 
even  in  the  abridged  form  in  which  it  is  set  forth  in  these  in- 
structions, does  not  cover  with  the  strictest  technical  accuracy 
all  the  stipulations  in  the  treaty ;  and  the  true  principle,  no 
doubt,  is,  that  parties  treating  with  each  other  are  bound  to  look 
no  farther  than  to  the  regularity  and  sufficiency  of  their  respect- 
ive powers, — all  questions  about  compliance  with  instructions, 
etc.,  being  matters,  as  in  other  causes  of  agency,  to  be  settled 
between  the  representative  and  the  constituent,  with  which  third 
persons  have  nothing  to  do.  Wicquefort,  who  is  a  great  author- 
ity, says  so  positively,*  although  Vattel  seems  to  be  rather  more 
indulgent, — but  then  the  difficulty  here  is  that  King  Leopold 
qualifies  the  power  which  he  vests  in  M.  Behr  by  the  instruc- 
tions which  it  was  given  to  fulfil,  and,  in  that  case,  according  to 
the  first  mentioned  writer,  it  is  no  full  power, — and  he  cites  an 
instance  in  which  the  clause  servatd  instructionis  formci,  insert- 
ed in  such  an  instrument  by  Urbain  VIII.,  when  he  authorised 
one  of  his  cardinals  to  treat  with  a  minister  of  the  Duke  of 
Parma,  was  effaced  at  the  instance  of  that  minister,  who  objected 
to  its  effect  in  restricting  the  authority.t 

This  is  a  formidable  technical  difficulty,  as  it  appears  to  me, 
and  then,  looking  at  the  whole  letter  of  instructions,  and  know- 
ing the  perfect  inexperience  of  the  statesmen  thrown  up,  without 
discipline  or  preparation,  into  the  management  of  great  affairs, 
by  a  most  unexpected  and,  in  some  respects,  anomalous  revolu- 
tion, it  seems  to  me  not  at  all  unlikely  that  they  really  meant  no 

*L.  ii.,  c.  10.  +).  i.,  c.  16. 


DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE.  195 

more  than  they  say  in  their  note  to  me.  Yet,  I  am  persuaded 
they  will  be  embarrassed  to  answer  the  argument,  or  rather  out- 
line of  the  case  which  I  am  about  to  present  to  them,  with  a 
view,  if  possible,  of  making  them  state  their  objections  with 
greater  precision.  This  note  shall  be  annexed.  As  it  is,  I  never 
saw  people  in  greater  perplexity, — they  are  particularly  puzzled 
how  they  are  to  act  with  respect  to  M.  Behr.  In  conversation 
with  M.  Nothomb  to-day,  I  told  him  our  government  was  never 
vindictive,  and  I  should  not  volunteer  to  demand  what  the  Pre- 
sident might  not  choose  to  insist  on.  but  that  he  could  not  but 
know  that  a  minister,  to  be  disavowed  with  any  color  of  plausi- 
bility, must  be  disgraced  and  recalled.*  He  admitted  the  posi- 
tion, but  seemed  to  dread  the  consequences, — and,  I  have  no 
doubt,  with  good  reason,  for  the  agency  of  England  in  this  affair 
has  got  wind  among  the  opposition,  and  the  sacrifice  of  M.  Behr, 
for  making,  with  or  without  authority,  a  very  good,  and,  at  all 
events,  perfectly  innocent  treaty,  will  be  considered,  in  spite  of 
all  the  plausible  pretexts  with  which  it  will  be  attempted  to  gloss 
it  over,  as  a  scandalous  offering  of  timidity  to  arrogant  and 
haughty  power.  But,  on  this  point,  I  repeat  here  what  I  stated 
over  and  over  again  to  M.  Nothomb,  that  as  it  is  no  affair  of 
mine,  so  I  most  willingly  refer  the  decision  of  it  to  those  whom 
it  properly  concerns,  and  to  whose  better  judgment  it  may  be 
safely  confided. 

I  ought  to  add  that  the  part  of  your  letter  of  the  11th  July, 
which  I  copied  and  sent  to  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs,  is 
from  the  beginning  down  to  the  paragraph  "The  President  is 
unwilling  to  anticipate,"  etc.,  inclusive.  So,  to  avoid  unneces- 
sarily augmenting  the  bulk  of  a  very  voluminous  despatch,  I 
content  myself  with  barely  refering  you  to  our  treaty  of  1827 
with  the  Hanse  Towns,  of  which  a  copy,  sent  me  by  the  Minis- 
ter of  Foreign  Affairs  here,  is  the  document  (0.)  alluded  to  in 
my  reply  to  his  note. 

Thus  ends  the  first  direct  negotiation  of  the  Belgian  govern- 
ment, and  you  see  most  literally  verified  every  word  that  Sir 
Robert  Adair  uttered  a  year  ago,  in  a  moment,  though  not  as  I 
was  then  inclined  to  flatter  myself,  or  rather  the  ministers  here, 
under  the  usual  delusions  of  excitement.  They  have  vied  with 
each  other  in  disavowing  their  Envoy,  and  they  have  done  so 
with  a  trepidation  and  anxiety  which  they  have  not  been  able  to 
suppress,  and  he  (Sir  R.)  certainly  did  not  exaggerate. 

I  trust  that  I  have,  from  first  to  last,  acquitted  myself  of  a 
delicate  duty  with  real  vigilance  and  activity.  I  know  that  I 
have  been  deeply  impressed  with  its  importance  with  a  view  to 
matters  far  more  important  than  our  intercourse  with  Belgium, 
and  that  as  I  think  it  any  thing  but  unfortunate  that  it  should 

*  Wicquefort,  1.  ii.,  c.  15. 


196  DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE. 

have  been  in  my  power  to  detect  and  reveal  to  yon  the  sinister 
influence  which  lias  thwarted  the  negotiation,  so  I  am  happy  in 
being  able  to  commit  the  ulterior  disposal  of  it  to  yonr  better 
judgment. 

I  have  the  honor  to  be,  etc.,  etc., 

[Signed]  H.  S.  Leg  are. 


Legation  of  the  United  Stairs,      } 
Brussels,  16th  Jan.,  1835.  <| 

To  the  Hon.  John  Forsyth, 

Secretary  of  State  of  the  United  States, — 

Sir, — As  it  is  quite  natural  the  government  should  wish  to 
know  what  impression  that  part  of  the  President's  message  that 
relates  to  the  French  treaty  has  made  in  Europe,  I  send,  by  the 
way  of  Havre,  all  the  Belgian  newspapers  which  make  any  allu- 
sion to  it.  One  of  these,  however,  I  have  thought  worthy  of 
more  especial  notice,  and  it  is,  therefore,  enclosed  under  the  en- 
velope of  this  despatch.  I  have  marked  the  paragraph  which 
determined  me  to  call  your  attention  to  it,  and  have  now  only  to 
add  that  I  have  no  doubt  at  all  but  that  it  is  the  work  of  M.  No- 
thomb,  Secretary  General  of  the  Department  of  Foreign  Affairs, 
who  played  throughout  our  recent  discussion  with  this  govern- 
ment so  conspicuous  a  part,  that  I  have  had  frequent  occasion 
to  mention  him  particularly  in  my  correspondence  with  the  de- 
partment on  the  subject  of  M.  Behr's  abortive  negotiation.  I 
send  you,  at  the  same  time,  a  copy  of  the  note  which  I  thought 
called  for  by  that  paragraph,  and  should  their  answer  come  to 
hand  in  time,  you  shall  be  furnished  with  a  copy  of  that  also. 
I  was  induced  to  take  official  notice  of  this  quasi  official  para- 
graph, not  only  because  of  the  misrepresentation  it  contains,  but 
also  on  account  of  the  general  tone  of  the  journal  itself  in  rela- 
tion to  American  affairs,  and  especially  of  the  indecorous,  not  to 
say  impertinent  language  it  had  held  in  two  previous  numbers, 
in  reference  to  the  message,  which  it  denounced  as  "arrogant," 
etc.  Happening  to  meet  with  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs 
and  his  Secretary  General  at  dinner  at  the  British  ambassador's, 
the  day  the  second  of  these  pieces  appeared,  and  the  conversa- 
tion naturally  turning  upon  a  State  paper  that  has  attracted  uni- 
versal attention  and  even  created  a  sensation  in  Europe,  I  took 
occasion  to  say  to  M.  deMuelnaere,  that  I  thought  the  language 
of  that  journal  most  strange  and  improper  and  felt  highly  offend- 
ed at  it. 

What  makes  it  the  more  so  is  the  great  moderation  with  which 
the  President  has  acted  in  not  immediately  demanding  the  recall 
of  M.  Behr,  according  to  established  diplomatic  usage, — an  event 


DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE.  197 

which  they  deprecated  extremely,  as  likely  to  lead  to  explana- 
tions of  a  disagreeable  and  discreditable  kind.  If  you  have  not 
yet  entered  into  another  negotiation  with  M.  Behr,  as  I  am  led 
to  suppose  from  the  message,  will  you  permit  me  to  suggest  a 
doubt  as  to  its  expediency  under  existing  circumstances.  In 
case  of  hostilities  with  France,  it  is  true,  our  commerce  with 
Antwerp  is  likely  to  increase  very  much  for  the  moment ;  other- 
wise, it  is  very  far  from  being  important,  for  the  Consul  there 
writes  me  word  that  the  Swedes  are  supplanting  us  as  carriers 
in  that  trade.  If  this  is  the  case,  is  it  expedient  to  accept  their 
overtures  to  a  treaty  of  commerce,  merely  securing  to  us,  by 
formal  stipulation,  what  the  law  of  nations  and  the  law  of  the 
land  in  Belgium  already  guaranty  to  all  neutrals,  when,  by  so 
doing,  we  give  a  sort  of  indirect  sanction  to  their  conduct  in 
the  previous  negotiation,  and  to  their  renewed  assertion  that  we 
are  seeking  to  establish,  by  practising  upon  unwary  or  ignorant 
negotiators,  a  code  of  maritime  law  unknown  to  European  na- 
tions ?  At  this  juncture,  too,  when  we  are  calling  upon  France 
to  make  atonement  to  us  for  her  violation  of  those  very  princi- 
ples, which  the  ministry  of  this  country  will  persist  in  pronoun- 
cing innovations  of  ours,  although  the  Berlin  and  Milan  decrees 
were  founded  upon  the  assumption  of  their  indisputable  truth, 
and  professedly  designed  to  vindicate  and  restore  them,  would 
such  an  implicit  inferential  concession  be  altogether  opportune? 
It  is,  of  course,  for  you  to  decide. 

16th  January. 

I  received  yesterday  evening  a  note  from  the  Minister  of  For- 
eign Affairs,  (in  answer  to  mine,)  of  which  a  copy  is  annexed. 
You  perceijre  the  minister  disavows  entirely  the  offensive  pas- 
sage in  the  Independant,  as  well  as  all  connection  with  or 
responsibility  for  the  conduct  of  that  paper.  This,  however, 
did  not  prevent  his  receiving  a  similar  letter  of  complaints  from 
the  Charge  d' Affaires  of  Brazil,  a  few  days  before,  and  as  M. 
Nothomb,  through  whose  hands  all  the  diplomatic  correspond- 
ence of  this  government  passes,  is  notoriously  one  of  the  prin- 
cipal conductors  of  that  journal,  1  have  gained  my  object  in 
letting  him  see  that  its  misrepresentation  of  facts,  of  which  he 
knows  we  assert  the  contrary,  has  not  passed  unnoticed. 

Irt  the  papers  of  this  morning  I  see  that  Mr.  Livingston  has 
received  his  passports,  and  probably  left  Paris  already.  People 
are  very  much  excited  about  this  event,  though  the  proposal  of 
the  bill  to  make  the  appropriation,  which  is  to  take  place  imme- 
diately on  the  departure  of  Mr.  Livingston,  would  seem  to  shew 
that  the  French  government  only  means  to  express  its  displea- 
sure, without  committing  any  act  of  hostility. 
I  have  the  honor  to  be,  etc., 

[Signed]  H.  S.  Legare. 


198  DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE. 

p.  s. — I  take  the  liberty  of  suggesting,  on  occasion  of  our 
present  difficulties,  that  great  harm  is  done  by  the  precipitate 
publication  of  our  diplomatic  papers, — a  practice  unknown  in 
Furope,  and  inconsistent  with  the  perfect  freedom  of  corres- 
pondence. The  most  instructive  reports  of  a  foreign  minister 
are  precisely  those  which  he  does  not  write  for  the  public,  and 
especially  for  the  nation  amongst  whom  he  resides. 


Legation  of  the  United  States,      ) 
Brussels,  26th  Jan.,  1835.  $ 
To  the  Hon.  John  Forsyth,  etc., — 

Sir, — Nothing  of  importance  has-  transpired  since  my  last, 
except  that  it  appears  now  to  be  generally  understood  that  the 
payment  of  the  25,000,000  is  become  a  government  question  iu 
France,  and  that  the  opposition  of  all  colors,  Carlists,  Republi- 
cans and  Tiers  parti,  (headed  by  M.  Dupin,  President  of  the 
Chamber  of  Deputies,)  will  resort  to  every  means  to  prevent  it. 
As  you  will,  no  doubt,  be  glad  to  receive  every  information  that 
can  throw  any  light  upon  the  state  of  opinion  in  Europe  in  re- 
gard to  that  matter,  I  will  take  the  liberty  of  mentioning  that  it 
seems  to  be  thought,  in  France,  that,  although  the  king  is,  by 
the  Constitution,  vested  with  the  whole  treaty-making  power, 
yet  if  a  convention  call  for  the  appropriation  of  money,  or,  I 
suppose,  any  other  legislative  action,  the  Chamber  of  Deputies 
lias  a  right  to  take  up  the  question,  as  if  it  were  res  Integra,  and 
to  refuse  its  consent,  as  freely  and  unconditionally  as  it  might, 
to  any  proposition  originating  in  the  usual  routine  of  business 
within  itself.  I  am  not  sure  that  this  same  doctrine  was  not 
advanced  by  the  minority  in  the  discussion  of  Jay's  treaty,  but 
whether  it  was  or  not,  /  am  sure  that  it  is  unreasonable  when 
carried  to  this  extent.  The  great  question  is,  upon  whom  does 
the  onus  probandi  rest  when  a  treaty  has  once  been  made  and 
ratified  by  the  proper  authorities?  Undoubtedly,  upon  those 
who  dispute  it.  It  is  not  enough  to  say  they  are  not  satisfied, 
and  to  call  for  evidence  to  shew  that,  either  in  principle  or  amount, 
some  error  has  been  committed  by  those  who  entered  into  the 
stipulations.  The  most  that  can  be  admitted  is  that  the  repre- 
sentatives of  the  people,  called  on  for  their  assistance  in  fulfil- 
ling them,  shall  be  allowed  to  rebut  the  presumption  (arising 
from  so  solemn  an  act,  done  by  the  competent  authority)  by  posi- 
tive and  satisfactory  proof.  Now,  this  is  what  the  opposition  in 
France  and  many  other  Continental  publicists  do  not  understand, 
or  will  not  admit,  and  the  consequence  is  that  they  find  our  in- 
dignation at  the  very  reprehensible  levity  with  which  the  sub- 
sidy was  refused,  quite  unaccountable.     I  thought  it  as  well  to 


DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE.  199 

throw  out  this  suggestion,  which  deserves  to  be  taken  into  con- 
sideration by  the  government,  before  adopting  definitive  mea- 
sures, and  serves,  in  some  degree,  to  excuse  conduct  that  would 
otherwise  justly  subject  the  authors  of  it  to  the  reprobation  of 
all  honest  men. 

Since  the  affair  has  been  the  subject  of  so  much  conversation, 
I  have  taken  occasion  to  point  out  to  the  Minister  of  Foreign 
Affairs,  and  to  other  public  characters  here,  the  immense  advan- 
tages which  Belgium,  in  the  event  of  a  rupture  with  France, 
would  have  derived  from  the  treaty  which  her  ministry  lately 
rejected,  and  especially  from  the  "free  ships  free  goods"  princi- 
ple, the  object  of  M.  Nothomb's  especial  abhorrence, — although 
its  only  effect  would  have  been  to  make  this  country,  in  that 
contingency,  the  carrier  and  agent  of  a  mighty  commerce.  They 
seem  very  much  struck  with  the  glaring  absurdity  of  their  re- 
cent conduct,  and  M.  de  Muelnaere  went  so  far  as  to  tell  me  he 
had  been  thinking  a  great  deal  on  the  subject,  and  had  come  to 
the  conclusion  that  M.  Behr  had  done  a  very  good  thing  rather 
too  soon.  Perhaps,  by  delaying  the  negotiation  for  some  time, 
you  may  bring  them  to  a  more  public  and  practical  recantation 
of  their  error,  if  indeed  you  think  it  worth  your  while  to  move 
the  matter  again  at  all. 

I  have  the  honor  to  be,  etc., 

[Signed]  H.  S.  Legare. 


Legation  of  the  United  States,      \ 
Brussels,  24th  April,  1835.  $ 
To  the  Hon.  John  Forsyth,  etc., — 

Sir, — Permit  me  to  congratulate  you  on  the  result  of  the  pro- 
tracted investigation  and  discussion  of  Mr.  Rives'  treaty  in  the 
French  Chamber  of  Deputies.  I  apprehend,  from  all  that  I  hear 
of  the  eagerness  of  the  Court  of  the  Tuilleries  on  this  subject, 
as  well  as  from  the  scope  and  spirit  of  M.  Thiers'  speech,  no 
serious  difficulty  from  the  condition  with  which  the  fulfilment 
of  the  treaty  has  been  clogged  in  order  to  save  appearances.  It 
is,  all  things  considered,  as  small  a  sacrifice  as  could  have  been 
made  by  the  ministry  to  the  vanity  of  the  vainest  of  nations, 
deeply  wounded  by  the  course  the  matter  has  taken. 

As  this  great  question  seems  now  to  be  in  a  fair  way  of  being 
settled,  and  the  prospect  lately  held  out,  by  a  possible  rupture 
with  France,  of  my  being  very  much  and  very  usefully  employ- 
ed in  my  present  situation,  being,  in  consequence,  removed,  I 
avail  myself  of  this  opportunity  to  request  that  the  President 
will  give  me  permission  to  return  home  on  the  1st  June,  1836. 
I  shall  then  have  served  the  entire  four  years  for  which,  I  under- 


200  DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE. 

stood,  the  appointment  to  be  made ;  and  suppose  there  can  be 
no  objection,  after  so  long  an  absence  in  the  public  service,  to 
my  devoting  my  attention  once  more  to  my  private  interests.  I 
trust,  too,  that,  in  resigning  into  the  President's  hands  a  commis- 
sion, with  which  he  was  pleased  to  honor  me  without  any  soli- 
tation  whatever  on  my  part,  I  may  confidently  count  upon  his 
approbation  for  the  manner  in  which  I  have  discharged  its  du- 
ties,— conscious,  as  I  am,  of  having  been  zealous  to  do  all  that 
in  me  lay,  in  a  comparatively  humble,  however  honorable  sta- 
tion, to  maintain  the  interests  and  dignity  of  my  country.  My 
object,  however,  in  troubling  you  with  this  request  at  so  early  a 
period,  is  to  add  to  it  another,  which  I  venture  to  make  only  be- 
cause, I  presume,  there  is  nothing  objectionable  in  it.  From 
the  tenor  of  one  of  my  last  letters  from  Charleston,  I  am  led  to 
think  that  my  presence  there  may  be  necessary,  at  least  desira- 
ble, sooner  than  the  time  just  mentioned.  I  do  not  know  that  it 
will,  and  sincerely  hope  the  contrary,  but  in  case  I  should  re- 
ceive information  to  that  effect,  in  the  course  of  the  summer,  it 
would  be  a  great  favor  to  me  to  have  the  permission  I  ask  for  so 
shaped,  as  to  make  it  optional  for  me  to  return  in  October.  I 
shall  be  extremely  indebted  to  you  to  let  me  hear  from  you  on 
this  subject  at  your  earliest  convenience,  as,  should  the  President 
be  good  enough  to  comply  with  my  wishes,  and  events  make  it 
necessary  to  avail  myself  of  the  conditional  permission,  I  should 
by  all  means  desire  to  avoid  a  winter  passage  across  the  Atlan- 
tic, which,  in  my  present  state  of  health,  would,  I  fear,  do  me 
serious  harm.  I  have  the  pleasure  to  announce  that  the  Queen 
of  the  Belgians  has  given  birth  to  a  second  son  and  heir  to  the 
crown, — an  event  ardently  desired  by  all  friends  of  the  country 
and  its  dynasty,  and  universally  rejoiced  in  as  a  pledge  of  order 
and  stability  to  the  new  government. 
I  have  the  honor  to  be,  etc., 

[Signed]  H.  S.  Legare. 


Legation  of  the  United  States,      > 
Brussels,  17th  May,  1835.  \ 
To  the  Hon.  John  Forsyth,  etc., — 

Sir, — I  have  now  the  satisfaction  of  being  able  to  enclose  the 
paper  you  instructed  me  to  procure.  I  send  copies  of  it  both  in 
the  original  Dutch  and  in  a  French  translation.  They  were 
furnished  me  by  Mr.  Patterson,  explanatory  extracts  from  two  of 
whose  letters  (marked  A.)  accompany  them. 

You  will  remark  that  in  these  letters  Mr.  Patterson,  besides 
the  principal  object  of  our  inquiry,  alludes  to  two  others  of  great 
importance,  as  to  which  he  conveys  information  that  deserves 


DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE.  201 

attention.  To  what  he  says  of  the  sugar  trade,  it  ought  to  be 
added  in  explanation  that,  in  consequence  of  a  very  considerable 
drawback  having  been  allowed  on  the  re-exportation  of  refined 
sugars,  the  sugar  refineries  of  Antwerp,  for  the  supply  of  the 
North  of  Europe  especially,  have  been  so  successful  and  are  so 
much  multiplied  as  to  be  fast  distancing  all  competition.  It  is 
in  supplying  these  establishments  with  the  raw  material,  which 
their  own  navigation  has  not  as  yet  so  much  as  attempted,  that 
ours  has  found  its  chief  employment  in  that  port.  Hence  we 
are  deeply,  and,  as  yet,  exclusively  interested  in  getting  rid 
of  the  very  high  duty  imposed  on  the  importation  of  that  com- 
modity. What  Mr.  Patterson  says  of  the  projected  innovation 
as  to  whale  oil,  speaks  for  itself. 

Things  remain  here,  and  throughout  Europe,  very  much  in 
statu  quo, — an  armed  neutrality  and  suspicious  peace,  which  has 
hitherto  been  proof  against  provocations  to  war,  that,  at  any  pre- 
vious period,  would  have  covered  Europe  with  blood  and  ruins. 
This  indisposition  of  mankind  to  go  to  war  is  strongly  encour- 
aged, no  doubt,  by  the  unprecedented  development  of  their  in- 
dustry, with  all  the  accompanying  blessings,  under  the  existing 
state  of  things.  Witness  the  cotton  trade,  for  example.  When 
I  was  in  Europe  sixteen  years  ago,  the  merchants  and  manufac- 
turers of  Glasgow  and  Liverpool  universally  predicted  a  glut 
and  fall  of  prices,  which  did  indeed  take  place  and  continue  for 
some  time.  Production  is,  since  that  period,  at  least  doubled, 
and  is  now  going  on  at  a  rate  of  increase  out  of  all  proportion 
greater ;  so  much  so,  that  Mr.  Patterson  mentioned  to  me,  last 
week,  that  inquiries,  prompted  by  this  progress  of  the  manufac- 
ture in  Europe,  had  been  addressed  to  him,  by  persons  interested 
in  it,  as  to  the  probable  sufficiency  of  the  supply  of  the  raw 
material,  high  as  prices  are  already.  Speaking  with  one  of  the 
most  experienced  men  of  business  in  Europe,  some  time  ago,  of 
this,  to  me,  unexpected  rise,  I  asked  him  what  it  could  be  owing 
to.  His  answer  was  that  he  could  ascribe  it  to  nothing  but  the 
effects  of  the  universal  peace,  which  were  great  beyond  all  cal- 
culation,— so  much  so,  that  their  house  found  themselves  every 
year  underrating  them  in  their  anticipations.  Specimens  of  this 
most  beneficent  progress  in  true  civilization  are  the  change 
brought  about  in  the  German  custom-house  system  by  the  King 
of  Prussia, — an  immense  step  to  what  I  have  more  than  once 
had  the  honor  of  calling  the  attention  of  the  Department, — and 
the  projected  construction  of  a  rail-road  from  Antwerp  to  Co- 
logne, opening  to  the  whole  commerce,  fostered  by  this  wise 
Prussian  system,  a  new  and  unobstructed  outlet  by  the  Scheldt, 
and  destined,  perhaps,  to  undo  what  the  treaty  of  Westphalia 
did,  to  build  up  Holland  at  the  expense  of  this  and  other  sur- 
rounding nations,  by  giving  her  the  keys  of  that  river  and  the 
vol.  i. — 26 


202  DIPLOMATIC  CORRESPONDENCE. 

Rhine.  A  part  of  this  road  (from  Mechlin  to  Brussels)  is  actu- 
ally finished  and  in  use.  I  do  not  know  whether  I  ought  to 
apologise  for  troubling  you  with  these  remarks.  They  appear 
to  me  worthy  of  your  notice,  not  only  as  a  Minister  of  a  most 
flourishing  commercial  and'  agricultural  country,  but,  as  one 
whose  education  and  social  position  forbid  him  to  be  indifferent 
to  a  subject  above  all  others,  in  my  opinion,  connected  with  the 
true  progress  of  the  civilization  and  happiness  of  mankind. 
I  have  the  honor  to  be,  etc., 

[Signed]  H.  S.  Legare. 

P.  S., — 18//i  May.  The  Moniteur,  of  this  morning,  happen- 
ing to  contain  some  important  papers  relating  to  the  very  subject 
of  this  despatch,  I  enclose  it  under  its  envelope.  You  will  there 
see  that  the  Chamber  of  Commerce  of  Bruges  expresses,  in  so 
many  words,  its  opinion  that  the  allowance  of  10  per  cent,  is 
not  enough,  and  that  it  ought  to  be  increased  to  25  or  30.  1 
ought  to  mention,  also,  that,  in  spite  of  the  obvious  tendency  of 
the  times  to  a  gradual  relaxation  of  the  old  commercial  system, 
and  approximation  to  the  freedom  of  intercourse  which  nature 
and  reason  conspire  to  recommend,  there  are  symptoms  of  quite 
a  contrary  kind  in  Belgium,  of  which  you  may  look  upon  these, 
papers  as  specimens.  The  truth  is  that,  in  a  mere  pecuniary 
point  of  view,  Belgium  lost  immensely  by  her  late  revolution. 
The  activity  of  Dutch  commerce, — the  great  monied  capital  of 
Holland, — and,  above  all,  the  markets  afforded  by  her  important 
colonies  for  the  sale  of  Belgian  manufactures, — all  these  and 
other  advantages  were  suddenly  withdrawn,  and  have  left  a 
chasm  not  likely  to  be  filled  up,  except,  possibly,  by  the  effect  of 
the  rail-road,  which  is  still  future  and  contingent.  Meanwhile, 
their  commerce  and  manufactures  languish  and  call  loudly  for 
the  old  nostrum,  protection. 


[The  Publishers  regret  that  want  of  space  compels  them  to 
omit  the  remainder  of  Mr.  Legare's  Diplomatic  Correspondence.] 


PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE. 


Mr.  Legare  to  I.  E.  Holmes,  Esq. 

Brussels,  2d  Oct.,  1832. 

My  dear  Holmes, — I  began  a  letter  to  you  the  other  day,  but 
it  was — owing  to  the  state  of  my  mind  and  the  impression  made 
upon  me  by  reading  your  State-rights  manifestoes — in  so  lugu- 
brious a  strain,  that  I  determined  it  was  not  fit  to  be  sent  as  a 
remembrancer  of  me  to  one  who,  wild  as  some  of  his  notions 
are,  is,  in  the  main,  all  that  his  best  friend  would  wish  him  to 
be.  I  have  often  thought  of  my  taking  leave  of  you  in  Wash- 
ington, which  was  the  first  time  (though  by  no  means  the  last) 
that  I  felt  myself  a  good  deal  overcome  by  my  separation  from 
those  I  love.  You  thought  I  should  not  bestow  a  recollection 
upon  you,  once  I  formed  my  grand  associations  in  Europe. 
How  little  even  you,  with  whom  I  have  used  less  disguise  than 
with  almost  any  person  besides,  know  of  my  character  !  I  have 
had  the  honor  of  dining  with  two  kings,  and  have  been  as  well 
received  as  I  had  any  right  to  imagine  I  should  be,  and  yet,  I 
assure  you  that  I  never  thought  more,  and  more  affectionately, 
of  you  and  all  my  little  circle  of  friends,  than  in  the  most  bril- 
liant scenes  I  have  found  myself  in, — and  even  at  Neuilly  and 
Laken.  Every  circumstance,  for  instance,  of  our  excursion  to 
Georgetown  in  the  spring, —or  rather,  winter, — from  our  first 
meeting  on  the  wharf  to  our  separation  at  Georgetown, — every 
word,  every  laugh,  almost  every  thought, — is  as  distinctly  in  my 
recollection  now  as  if  it  were  but  yesterday ;  and  the  glories  of 
Versailles,  the  freshness  and  beauty  of  the  most  highly  cultivated 
gardens  and  groves  that  adorn  the  palaces  of  kings,  excite  in  me 
feelings  far  less  deep  and  intense,  than  those  with  which  I  dwell 
upon  the  sands  and  quagmires  and  pine-barren  of  our  own  low 
country.  Ah,  why  should  such  a  happy  state  of  things, — a  so- 
ciety so  charming  and  so  accomplished, — be  doomed  to  end  so 
soon,  and,  perhaps,  so  terribly  ! 

I  was  grievously  disappointed  with  every  thing  in  Paris  but 
the  Royal  family  and  Ma'mselle  Taglioni,  the  celebrated  opera 
dancer, — oh  !  yes, — I  beg  her  a  thousand  pardons, — and  Ma'm- 
selle Mars,  the  great  comic  actress.  As  for  the  regeneration  of 
the  people  of  France,  it  is  all  in  my  eye, — they  are  as  much 
regenerated  as  I  am,  and  not  half  so  much,  for  I  flatter  myself 


204  PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE, 

that,  as  I  grow  older,  I  become  wonderfully  softened  and  peni- 
tent. It  is  just  the  contrary  with  the  Gauls.  If  liberty  consists 
in  a  readiness  to  rush  into  scenes  of  blood  and  outrage, — in  the 
ferocity  of  a  Tartar  horde,  thirsting  for  plunder  and  conquest, — 
in  rudeness  of  manners,  violence  of  passion,  and  the  most  con- 
centrated, impenetrable,  conceited  egoisme,— in  wearing  musta- 
chios  and  red  pantaloons,  and  elbowing  women  into  the  gutters 
that  bound  the  side-walks, — then,  the  French  are  a  free  people; 
but,  according  to  my  old-fashioned  notions  of  liberty,  they  are 
at  this  moment  more  unfit  to  be  citizens  of  a  republican  country 
than  they  were  in  '93.  They  think  o;  nothing  and  desire  noth- 
ing but  war  and  sensual  pleasures.  If  they  can  only  cover  them- 
selves with  crosses  and  stars  for  victories  gained  in  foreign  coun- 
tries, live  upon  contributions  extorted  from  their  unwilling  allies, 
and  deal  with  the  beauty  and  the  booty  of  subjugated  nations  at 
their  discretion, — one  form  of  government  is  precisely  the  same 
in  their  eyes  as  another.  Nay,  they  prefer  the  one  that  enables 
them  best  and  most  certainly  to  achieve  these  things.  I  don't 
mean  to  say  that  there  are  not,  among  the  men  of  fortune  and 
education, — especially  in  the  mercantile  classes, — many,  many 
individuals  of  sounder  views  and  feelings  than  these,  but  of  the 
great  body  of  the  Parisians  and  the  French  generally,  (and  re- 
member, equality  is  perfectly  established  among  them,)  I  have 
no  hesitation  in  affirming  that  I  think  them  utterly  unfit  for  a 
government  of  laivs  as  contradistinguished  from  one  of  men. 
Indeed,  I  am  more  than  ever  inclined  to  think  that  liberty  is  an 
affair  of  idiosyncracy,  and  not  destined  to  spread  very  far  beyond 
the  Anglo-Saxon  race,  if  even  they  keep  it  very  much  longer. 
Perhaps,  in  less  than  a  twelvemonth,  you  may  be  able  to  give  in 
your  experience  on  the  subject.  Quod  deus  aver  tat  omen.  They 
swear  the  government  of  Louis  Philippe  is  worse  than  any  they 
have  had.  Their  press  is  very  bold  and  unsparing, — but  the 
attorney-general  plays  the  devil  with  the  editors  by  prosecuting 
for  libel, — which  sometimes  succeed,  and  sometimes  fail,  but  are 
always  most  injurious  to  the  printer  on  account  of  the  interrup- 
tion they  necessarily  occasion  in  his  business. 

The  English,  by  the  way,  are  very  anxious  about  their  reform 
bill.  If  you  read  the  Quarterly,  you  will  see  what  a  doleful 
strain  it  utters,  and,  I  assure  you,  even  the  whigs  I  have  met 
with  seem  alarmed  about  the  state  of  things.  Dermis  has  got 
his  finger  in, — and  even  Brougham  begins  to  be  frightened  at 
the  idea  which  a  joint  or  two  of  that  extremity  give  him  of  the 
dimensions  and  prowess  of  the  mammoth.  There's  O'Connel, 
for  instance,  still  insisting  upon  "the  rapale"  of  the  union,  and 
issuing  manifestoes,  worthy  of  his  royal  progenitors  of  Kerry, 
to  excite  his  people  to,  it  seems  to  me,  nothing  less  than  a  war 
without  truce  or  quarter,  with  every  part  of  the  English  regime 


PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE.  205 

in  Ireland.  If  the  French  had  a  navy,  I  hav'n't  the  least  doubt 
Ireland  would  be  wrested  from  Great  Britain.  But  there's  the 
rub, — and  as  they  hav'n't  heard  of  nullification  in  this  unenlight- 
ened part  of  the  globe,  they  have  only  one  way  of  settling  a  dis- 
pute of  the  kind, — which,  unless  England  be  too  busily  engaged 
with  her  radicals  at  home,  is  likely  to  end  in  favor  of  her  mille 
carince. 

Apropos  of  the  English  navy,  I  had  the  pleasure  of  dining  in 
company  with  Sir  Sidney  Smith  at  Bishop  Luscombe's — the 
chaplain  of  the  British  embassy — at  Paris.  He  is  an  exceedingly 
interesting  and  striking  old  man.  He  used  several  times,  in 
speaking  of  the  French,  a  very  significant  phrase, — "they  are 
good  for  nothing,"  says  he,  "they  have  no  tenacity  of  will?  He 
mentioned  that,  being  at  Brussels,  the  day  of  the  battle  of  Wa- 
terloo, he  asked  a  gentleman,  who  had  just  returned  (it  was 
early  in  the  day)  from  the  field,  what  was  the  prospect.  "Why," 
replied  the  other,  "the  Duke  has  come  to  a  stand,  and  says  he 
will  not  budge  thence."  "Is  it  so,"  said  Sir  Sidney,  "then  all  is 
well, — for  I  know  by  experience,  (at  St.  Jean  d'Acre,  you  re- 
member,) if  he  won't  stir,  the  other  fellow  will."  His  informa- 
tion, derived  principally  from  his  extensive  intercourse  with 
mankind  in  different  parts  of  the  world,  is  very  diversified  and 
curious,  and  there  is  a  mixture  of  the  cavalier  and  the  sailor  in 
him  that  is  very  piquant.  Among  his  other  narratives,  (for  he 
is  getting  old,)  he  entertained  me  with  an  account  of  his  sojourn 
in  the  Temple  as  a  prisoner.  He  speaks  French  like  a  French- 
man. What  a  race  the  English  are  !  They  are,  without  excep- 
tion, the  highest  specimen  of  civilization  the  world  has  ever 
seen, — but  don't  tell  them  I  say  so. 

I  have  not  been  here  long  enough  to  make  any  acquaintance 
beyond  the  corps  diplomatique  and  the  high  officers  of  state. 
The  city  is  beautiful,  beyond  its  reputation.  It  has  been  very 
much  improved  since  I  saw  it.  I  keep  a  fine  carriage,  with  a 
noble  pair  of  English  horses,  and  take  an  airing  every  day  at 
four  o'clock  in  the  suburbs, — returning  at  five,  or  half- past  five, 
to  dinner;  but  I  am  alone,  and  solitude  (where  it  is  not  devoted 
to  study  or  contemplation)  is  so  painful ! — and  especially  is  it  so, 
where  the  means  of  enjoyment,  if  you  had  any  to  sympathise, 
are  all  around  you.  If  I  could  only  call  and  take  you  or  some 
other  crony  up,  as  I  go  to  the  Boulevard  and  the  Allee  Verte, 
how  happy  I  should  be.  As  it  is,  I  read  a  great  deal  in  the  day- 
time, and  go  to  the  theatre  in  the  evening.         * 

Talking  of  study,  when  I  was  crossing  the  ocean  I  was  in 
horribly  low  spirits,  and  I  do  not  know  what  I  might  not  have 
been  driven  to  by  my  despair,  had  I  not  taken  the  precaution  to 
buy  in  Philadelphia  a  collection  of  all  the  Greek  dramatists.  I 
read  a  tragedy  every  day,  so  that,  in  the  course  of  a  voyage  of 


206  PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE. 

three  weeks,  I  got  through  iEschylus,  Sophocles,  and  many  of 
the  plays  of  Euripides.  All  this  is  a  preface, — for  remember- 
ing the  interest  you  took  in  our  friend  Mr.  B**'s  doubts  about 
•rspj(r<roi  ravrse  oS  sv  tkidu)  Xoyoj,  I  must  beg  your  friendly  intervention 
in  another  affair  of  the  same  kind,  in  which  your  services  to  the 
cause  of  sound  literature  will  doubtless  be  acknowledged  by  him 
with  as  much  gratitude  as  he  ever  feels  towards  any  body  that 
is  more  successful  than  himself  in  solving  a  classical  riddle, — at 
least,  I  trust  he  has  got  over  the  grudge  he  owed  you  for  your 
inconceivable  impudence  in  attempting  to  talk  Latin  with  our 
friend  AH  Pasha,  or  Haji  Baba,  or  whatever  was  his  name,  at 
Eliza  Lee's, — while  he  very  modestly  held  his  tongue  in  cudgel- 
ling his  brains  for  the  right  thing.  Not  long  before  I  left  Caro- 
lina, the  queer  old  man  (for  he  is  half  reconciled  to  me,  in  spite 
of  my  many  sins  of  commission  in  this  way)  came  to  me  with 
another  motto,  wondering  'what  the  devil  could  be  the  wit  of  it.' 
It  was  this, — Ev  tfagsgyu  Sou  fxs.  Of  course,  as  the  words  were 
abstracted  from  the  context,  it  was  not  easy  to  say  precisely  what 
they  meant  there, — but  I  gave  him  an  off-hand  interpretation, 
which  turns  out  to  have  been  the  right  one.  The  text  is  in  the 
Philoctetes  of  Sophocles,  v.  474.  The  hapless  solitary  of  Lemnos 
implores  Neoptolemus,  (Pyrrhus,)  by  all  that  is  dear  to  him,  not 
to  leave  him  to  suffer  in  the  frightful  desolateness  of  the  situa- 
tion in  which  he  had  been  abandoned  by  the  Greeks,  but  to  add 
him  to  his  ship's  company, — to  take  him  up,  as  it  were  by  the 
way,  and  as  a  supernumerary. 

/x'o  Xjtf-/}£  \h  outjJ  juoovov,  etc. 
aXX'  iv  rfagsgyu)  Sou  [ls. 

So  in  the  Orestes  of  Euripides,  Tyndareus  says  to  Orestes : 

xaXov  TT^t^yov  6'auVo  StjCo/xou  tfovwv 
wv  ouvsx'  tjXSov,  etc. 

This  will  be  a  good  or  glorious  addition  to  what  I  intended,  at 
first,  to  do."  Something  done  by  the  way,  over  and  above  one's 
duty  or  engagement, — ta^i  beside  and  egyov  opus.  In  the  appli- 
cation of  it,  made  at  Cambridge,  one  friend  begs  another  to  take 
him  up  en  croupe,  as  they  say  in  French, — to  let  him  pursue  his 
triumph  and  partake  the  gala,  etc. 

You  must  keep  this  little  piece  of  pedantry,  or  pleasantry,  as 
you  may  please  to  consider  it,  a  profound  secret  from  every  body 
but  our  reverend  friend  of  the  longs  and  shorts ;  but  I  would 
have  you  judge,  from  this  specimen,  how  full  my  thoughts  are 
of  every  thing,  how  minute  soever  it  may  be,  at  home. 

So  you  are  going  to  nullify, — well,  I  can't  say  I  have  any  great 
confidence  in  men  when  they  are  wound  up  to  the  revolutionary 
pitch, — but  I  strive  to  hope  against  hope.     I  trust  in  God  that 


PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE.  207 

my  glorious  and  happy  country,  a  thousand  times  dearer  to  me 
now  and  grander  in  my  estimation ,  by  contrast,  than  it  ever  was, 
is  not  about  to  seal  forever  the  dismal  doom  of  our  miserable 
species.  As  for  amelioration  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic,  they 
may  expect  to  see  it  grow  to  something  worth  boasting  of,  who 
believe  in  the  perfectibility  of  men,— but  to  preserve  our  happy 
institutions  for  ages  yet  to  come, — to  prolong  the  Saturnia  reg- 
no, which  our  physical  condition  and  the  character  and  order  of 
things  we  inherited  from  our  fathers,  naturally  secured  to  us, 
and  which  we  have  so  signally  enjoyed, — to  do  this  seems  to  me 
so  very  easy,  that  should  any  thing  happen,  which,  for  the  sake 
of  the  omen,  I  would  not  even  mention,  I  shall  think  the  world 
a  mockery  fit  only  to  inspire  the  despair  of  the  misanthrope,  or 
to  provoke  the  demoniac  sneer  of  a  Mephistopheles.  If  the 
Union  should  go  to  pieces,  it  will  be  one  hideous  wreck, — of 
which,  excepting  New-England,  no  two  parts  will  hold  together. 
None  of  us  will  have  any  country,  except  what  the  rule  in  Cal- 
vin's case  may  dignify  with  that  name, — a  technical  country, — 
a  legal  right  and  a  civil  status  to  decide  on  a  question  of  title. 
But  there  will  be  no  flag  known  to  the  nations,  and  none  of  the 
ennobling  and  sacred  charities  that  bind,  or  rather  bound  us  to- 
gether but  the  other  day, — no  proud  retrospect  to  the  past, — no 
glowing  anticipations  of  the  future, — but  piratical  depredations 
instead,  and  ignoble  border  warfare,  and  the  rudeness,  coarseness 
and  ferocity  of  a  race  of  mounted  barbarians, — and  all  the  ca- 
lamities that  have  scourged  this  continent,  without  the  chivalry 
that  has  adorned  her  valor,  and  the  grandeur  that  has  half  ex- 
cused the  ambition  it  has  excited. The  politics  of  the  immor- 
tal Jefferson  !     Pish ! 

Write  to  me  soon  and  at  great  length, — keep  my  secrets,  and 
believe  me,  dear  Holmes,  ever  yours,  H.  S.  L* 


From  the  same  to  the  same. 

Bruxelles,  April  8,  1833. 
My  dear  Holmes, — I  have  this  moment  received  your  letter 
of  the  12th  Feb.,  endorsed  by  Trapmann  on  the  16th.  I  began 
to  think  you  did  not  intend  to  reply  to  my  letter,  as  supposing  it 
improper,  or  unsafe,  or  I  know  not  what,  since  your  scandalous 
row  in  South-Carolina,  to  keep  up  a  correspondence  with  one  of 
the  "mercenaries"  (isn't  that  the  word?)  of  the  general  govern- 
ment. I  was  occupied  the  greater  part  of  yesterday  and  the  day 
before  in  writing  two  very  long  letters,  for  when  I  get  at  it,  I 
have  no  moderation,  and  inflict  line  upon  line  on  my  suffering 
correspondents,  with  as  little  mercy  as  if  I  were  the  representa- 
tive of  a  "sovereign  State"  bellowing  out  or  vomiting  forth  whole 


208  PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE. 

volumes  of  the  darkest  metaphysics,  beginning  with  the  hunter- 
State,  and  coming  down,  through  the  tribes  of  Israel,  to  the 
immortal  sayings  and  doings  of  the  holy  father  in  democracy,— 
the  servant  of  the  servants  of  Demus  (whose  nose  of  wax  he 
knew  better  than  any  body  how  to  shape  to  his  own  conve- 
nience,)— the  infallible,  though  ever-changing,  St.  Thomas  of 
Canting-bury.  And  here,  you  may  be  sure,  I  cross  myself  de- 
voutly and  cry  out,  with  an  all-fervent  benediction  to  that  canon- 
ized worthy,  pax  tecum  (pronounced,  you  know,  Scottice,  pox 
tacuni). 

It  is  Tacitus,  I  think,  who  talks  of  the  Ludibrium  rerum  hu- 
manarum, — but  then  it  is  flebile  ludibrium,  and  I  really  don't 
know  whether  I  ought  to  laugh  or  cry  at  the  picture  you  draw 
of  our  poor  little  community,  /think  the  question  entirely  set- 
tled,— I  think  that  free  trade  is  victorious, — and,  as  for  "State 
Rights",  I  think  it  will  be  well  for  them  if  their  champions  con- 
sent to  a  true,  or  definitive  treaty,  if  you  please,  on  the  principle 
of  the  uti  possidetis.  But  /  shall  be  very  much  surprised,  or 
rather  (for  I  begin  to  be  surprised  at  nothing  at  all  which  our 
ourang-outang  race  perpetrates  now-a-days)  I  shall  be  exceed- 
ingly indignant  or  downcast  or  both,  if  the  fantastic  tricks  of 
wanton,  cold-blooded  tyranny  which  the  Convention  has  played 
off  before  the  world,  to  its  deep  and  serious  instruction  in  po- 
litics, do  not  yet  awaken  us  all  to  the  importance  of  the  in- 
quiry, whether  that  same  "sovereignty  of  the  States",  about 
which  we  are  mouthing  as  much  as  the  Carlists  do  about 
monarchy  jure  divino,  and  which  experience  has  thus  shown 
to  be  of  precisely  the  same  stamp, — whether  that  same  sov- 
ereignty isn't  still,  as  it  was  at  the  beginning,  much  too  strong, 
not  only  for  purposes  of  good  government,  vulgarly  so  called, 
but,,  to  be  at  all  consistent  with  the  preservation  of  a  very 
humble  share  of  the  liberties  transmitted  to  us  from  our  Eng- 
lish forefathers,  and  meant  to  be  maintained  in  their  integrity 
by  the  revolution.  When  I  read  your  "Ordinance",  I  rubbed 
my  eyes  to  be  sure  if  I  was  not  in  a  dream.  I  could  not  believe 
it  possible  that  such  insolent  tyranny  was  in  the  heart  of  any 
man,  educated  as  and  where  I  myself  imbibed  my  detestation  of 
all  arbitrary  power,  though  its  sceptre  be  in  my  own  gripe.  I 
don't  speak  of  it  as  a  federal  or  anti-federal  measure, — pass  for 
that, — I  refer  to  it  exclusively  as  a  measure  of  government  in 
South-Carolina,  and  I  declare  to  you  solemnly,  that,  for  the  very 
first  time  during  this  whole  controversy,  I  felt  the  spirit  of  civil 
war  burning  within  me,  and  that  I  fervently  prayed  that  my 
friends  of  the  Union  party  would,  without  any  hesitation,  swear 
that  it  should  never  be  enforced  but  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet. 
What  made  it  worse  was  that  (if  I  have  not  quite  forgotten  the 
Constitution  of  the  State)  nothing  is  plainer  than  that  the  "Con- 


PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE.  209 

vention"  was  a  mere  self-constituted  assembly, — a  mob,  without 
a  place  or  a  name  in  our  laws, — because  the  Legislature  which 
called  it  was  no  Legislature  until  the  constitutional  time  of  meet- 
ing in  November. 

But,  putting  the  matter  of  right  altogether  out  of  the  question, 
as  it  seems  to  be  in  South-Carolina  under  its  new  government, 
how  could  the  leaders  and  their  Convention,  knowing,  as  they 
must  know,  unless  they  are  mad,  the  inherent  weakness  of  the 
State  and  of  the  whole  South,  if  civil  war  do  take  place  in  good 
earnest, — how  could  they  be  blind  to  the  wild  impolicy  of  their 
conduct?  They  first  practice,  with  the  utmost  deliberation,  a 
fraud  upon  the  people,  by  assuring  them  that  their  premedita- 
ted scheme  of  violence  is  a  perfectly  regular  and  peaceable  one. 
They  succeed  in  bringing  over  a  bare  majority  of  our  people, 
even  with  this  plausible  pretence  in  their  mouths.  They  know 
that  out  of  39,000  votes,  upwards  of  16,000  are  against  them  in 
every  view  of  the  measure.  And  yet,  holding  so  feeble  a  ma- 
jority by  such  a  tenure,  they  venture  to  pass  an  "Ordinance",  of 
which  I  never  can  think,  and,  I  suppose,  none  of  my  friends 
ever  do  think,  without  feeling  that  life  under  such  a  tyranny  (if 
it  could  be  enforced)  is  not  worth  having.  If  it  had  been  de- 
signed as  a  measure  of  mere  vengeance, — if,  believing  they 
would  be  ultimately  thwarted  in  their  plan  of  resistance,  and 
wishing  to  prevent  the  triumphant  scoffings  of  the  Union  party 
at  their  anticipated  discomfiture  and  disgrace,  they  had  deter- 
mined to  exterminate,  at  least,  to  banish  them  all  at  once,  which, 
as  Milton's  Satan  says,  if  not  victory,  were,  at  least,  revenge, — a 
la  bonne  heure.  But,  if  we  suppose  them  to  have  been  any  thing 
but  a  gang  of  desperadoes,  (as  they  certainly  were  ! — am  1  not 
liberal '/)  how  can  it  be  accounted  for,  except  by  that  spirit  of  in- 
toxication and  wilfulness  which  is  said  to  be  the  forerunner  of 
the  downfall  of  kings  and  principalities  and  powers. 

Cet  esprit  de  vertige  et  d'erreur 
De  la  chute  des  Rois  funeste  avant-coureur. 

That  they  began,  without  the  least  pretext  of  an  over-ruling 
necessity  of  self-defence, — that  they  deliberately  began  by  doing 
such  things  as  made  it  the  solemn  duty  of  every  Union  man, — 
however  secretly  determined  he  might  have  been,  if  things  should 
come  to  the  worst,  in  spite  of  all  he  could  do  to  prevent  it,  to 
adhere  to  the  State  and  perish  with  it, — either  to  destroy  or  ab- 
jure a  commonwealth  in  which  such  intolerable  tyranny  could 
exist  ?  I  wrote  to  my  friend  p******  upon  this  subject,  and  I 
have  no  objection  to  your  seeing  the  letter  in  confidence,  because 
I  know  your  heart,  my  dear  Holmes,  to  be  as  kind  and  just  as 
it  is  firm,  and  that  you  must  despise  us  there,  if  you  do  not 
think  that  we  feel  as  I  have  spoken  in  that  letter,  which  was 
written  in  all  the  transport  of  my  first  impressions. 
vol.  i. — 27 


210  PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE. 

Now,  I  am  not  such  a  Don  Quixotte  as  to  imagine  that  if  the 
sword  had  been  drawn  and  blood  been  shed,  and  the  civil  war 
that  should  have  ensued  had  been  brought  to  an  issue  of  life  and 
deatli  for  your  party,  you  would  not  have  been  excusable  (jus- 
tified, in  this  age,  you  could  not  be)  in  saying  to  your  dissen- 
tient fellow- citizens,  "stand  out  of  our  way  or  we  must  make 
you."  You  and  others,  who  always  said  it  was  resistance  vi  et 
armis  and  an  appeal  to  the  law  of  nature,  might  have  acquiesced 
with  a  good  grace  in  such  a  necessity  ;  and  1  shall  not  say  what 
I  suppose  would  have  been  the  conduct  of  many  of  your  politi- 
cal opponents  in  that  dreadful  extremity.  What  I  denounce  and 
condemn, — what  I  do  not  scruple  to  declare  I  think  a  political 
portent  of  the  most  malignant  aspect,  and  an  act  of  outrageous, 
bare-faced,  premeditated  and  insupportable  tyranny, — was  the 
coolly  adopting  such  a  measure  as  a  constitutional  one,  and 
treating  one-half  of  the  people  of  South-Carolina  like  Helots  or 
Cherokee  Indians,  under  pretence  of  keeping  the  peace  and  pre 
serving  the  Union,  as  if  either  peace  or  Union  were  wortli  such 
a  price ! 

Pax  est  tranquilla  libertas  ! 

It  is  such  things  as  this  same  "Ordinance"  that  make  free  gov- 
ernment, especially  a  republic,  so  rare  a  phenomenon.  Mankind 
have  too  little  sense  to  maintain,  for  any  length  of  time,  a  well- 
tempered  democracy,  and  a  great  deal  too  much  to  bear  an  un- 
limited one, — the  most  dreadful  form  of  "State  sovereignty", 
beyond  all  doubt,  in  which  the  descendants  of  the  father  of  the 
first  murderer  have  ever  given  loose  to  their  ruffian  instinct  of 
violence  and  oppression.  If  they  have  a  moderate  polity  of  the 
kind,  which  happens  (as  all  complicated  machines  will)  to  be 
occasionally  a  little  out  of  order,  their  only  idea  of  a  remedy  is 
to  pull  it  down,  and  along  with  it  every  thing  that  makes  civil 
society  worthy  of  its  name.  Who  could  ever  have  dreamed  that 
the  law  of  brute  force  which  now  crushes  Europe, — which  has 
absolutely  annihilated  the  independence  of  the  smaller  States, 
and  made  the  destinies  of  the  whole  continent  to  depend  upon 
what  five  great  powers  happen  to  think  suits  their  own  conve- 
nience,— should  be  deliberately  adopted  in  America,  instead  of 
the  really  sublime  institutions  of  a  federal  jurisdiction,  (fallible, 
of  course,  but  generally  right,)  and  that  this  relapse  into  down- 
right barbarism  should  be  vaunted,  by  the  most  enlightened  men 
in  the  Southern  States,  as  a  grand  improvement  and  the  only 
thing  wanting  to  make  our  government  as  perfect  as  we  have 
been  swearing  it  was  all  along  ?  Nor  is  the  theory  a  jot  worse 
than  the  practice,  for,  although,  in  the  hands  of  men  like  your- 
self and  others  that  I  could  mention,  the  despotism  would  not 
be  much  worse  than  that  of  Trajan,  for  instance,  or  the  present 


PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE.  211 

Emperor  of  Austria,  yet  what  would  it  be  under  the  auspices  of 
the  Columbia  junta, — judging,  at  least,  from  the  character  of  the 
old  prophet  there,  and  that  of  the  pieces  I  sometimes  read  in  the 
Telescope.  The  spirit  of  the  dictation,  there,  is  not  even  Caro- 
linian. It  is  alien  to  our  old  habitudes,  to  the  gentle  courage, 
the  courteous  hostility,  the  mild  and  merciful  justice,  the  proud 
submission  to  law  and  respect  for  right,  which  once  distinguish- 
ed our  low  country  society  from  and  above  all  other  American 
society.  Half  of  this  society  has  been  maddened,  the  other  half 
outraged,  and  all  of  it,  I  fear,  sadly  spoiled  and  deformed  by 
political  influence  and  intrigues.  You  complain,  and  you  see 
Mr.  Leigh  does,  of  the  effects.  Depend  on  it,  you  see  only  the 
first  blossoms  of  the  tree  of  bitterness  and  death.  Wait  a  few 
years,  and  you  will  certainly  taste  the  fruit. 

When  I  had  got  to  the  end  of  the  last  paragraph,  my  servant 
announced  "dinner",  and,  while  at  table,  as  usual,  two  newspa- 
pers were  brought  in,  by  which  I  have  intelligence  from  Amer- 
ica (through  the  English  journals)  as  lnte  as  the  8th  March.  I 
heartily  congratulate  you  on  the  passing  of  the  new  tariff  law, 
and  by  such  a  majority  too  !  This  is,  indeed,  a  great  victory, 
though  I  have  not  doubted,  for  some  time  past,  that  it  would 
take  place;  yet  I  dare  say  it  has  been  accelerated  by  your  hub- 
bub in  South-Carolina, — as  in  reason  it  ought  to  have  been.  In 
this,  as  in  other  reforms,  our  country  will  have  led  the  march  of 
improvement,  and  the  more  certainly  for  having  gone  wrong 
and  retraced  its  steps.  There  have  been  some  movements  in 
France  lately,  which  shew  that,  in  that  great  and  leading  coun- 
try, (for  you  can't  conceive  what  influence  she  has,)  in  which 
the  restrictive  system  seemed  to  be  so  deeply  rooted,  it  is  begin- 
ning to  give  way,  and  I  have  no  doubt  at  all  but  the  doctrines 
of  free  trade  will  begin,  in  a  few  years,  to  be  universally  reduced 
to  practice,  /have,  as  you  know,  some  reason  to  exult  in  this 
result.  If  the  constitutional  question  has  been  better  argued 
any,  where  than  in  the  Southern  Review,  No.  XL,  (wasn't  it  ?)  I 
should  like  to  know  where.  But  your  Ordinance  !  "Handker- 
chief! O  devil!" 

So  you  gave  a  diplomatic  dinner  to  the  ambassador  of  Vir- 
ginia, and,  I  believe,  on  the  very  same  day  (Sth  or  9th  Feb.) 
when  I  was  entertaining  at  my  house  the  English  and  French 
ministers,  etc.,  with  my  colleague,  Mr.  Hughes,  Charge  d'Af- 
faires  at  Stockholm.  If  you  had  not  remembered  me  when  you 
were  quaffing  H****'s  old  wine,  I  should  have  thought  you 
wanting  in  natural  feeling.  I  begged  W*****  to  send  me  a  small 
case  of  the  best  he  could  find,  just  by  way  of  specimen,  and  he 
wrote  me  word  he  had  put  it  up  and  was  only  waiting  for  a 
vessel.  Since  that  time  the  Scheldt  has  been  practically  closed, 
and  you  will  be  so  good  as  to  tell  him  I  have  not  heard  of  the 


212  PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE, 

"My-deary."  It  is  a  wine  hardly  drunk  in  Europe  at  all, — a 
single  glass,  only,  being  sent  round  after  the  soup.  The  English 
drink  only  Sherry,  Claret  (Bordeaux)  and  Champagne.  At  the 
palace  and  Prince  Auguste  d'Arenberg's,  at  boih  of  which  places 
I  dine  continually,  we  have  the  best  wines  of  every  kind,  but 
especially  Champagne, — whichis  so  good  that  some  of  us  drink 
hardly  any  thing  else.  There  is  a  still  Champagne,  which  I 
think  the  best  of  all  wines  ;  and,  dining  here  with  a  rich  banker 
or  merchant,  (who  gives  more  sumptuous  dinners  than  the  king 
of  France,)  I  tasted  a  red  Champagne  which  I  thought  capital, 
and  a  Chambertin  (Burgundy)  which  might  have  revived  the 
dead.  How  often  I  have  thought  what  a  festival  we  should  have, 
could  I  just  invite  twenty  of  my  old  friends  (sworn  not  to  say  a 
word  about  State  Rights)  to  such  banquets  as  I  have  sat  down 
to  here.  By-the-bye,  all  the  French  wines  usually  imported  into 
Charleston,  except  by  gentlemen  for  themselves,  are  very  bad. 
Lynch's  Chateau  Margaux  is  good, — that  is  a  wine  seldom  serv- 
ed here  :  La  Fitte  and  La  Rose  carry  the  day. 

9th  April.  I  had  to  break  off  my  letter  to  go  to  an  English 
tea-party,  which  was  almost  as  formal  as  such  things  are  in 
Charleston,  where  we  are  decidedly  more  English  than  in  any 
other  city  of  the  United  States ;  and  while  I  am  writing,  here 
comes  a  note  from  Lady  Charlotte  Fitzgerald,  bidding  me  to  a 
small  meeting  of  friends  ("no  party")  at  her  house  this  evening. 
Those  friends  are  her  sister-in-law,  the  Marchioness  of  Hastings, 
(Lord  Rawdon's  widow,  now  on  a  visit  here,)  and  her  four 
daughters.  Lady  this,  that  and  t'other  Hastings.  They  have 
taken  this  name,  instead  of  Rawdon,  for  what  reason  Mr.  B** 
can  tell  you  better  than  I, — if  he  has  got  over  his  wrath  at  your 
daring  to  speak  to  the  Barnard's  Mussulman  protege  in  such 
infernal  Latin. 

But,  talking  of  eating  and  drinking,  you  are  all  good  at  that 
sort  of  thing  in  Charleston,  and  you  especially,  and  yet  you  can 
form  no  idea  how  large  a  space  in  life  and  conversation  the  re- 
finements of  the  table, — or,  to  speak  in  a  style  more  suitable  to 
the  grandeur  of  the  subject, — the  sublime  science  of  the  kitchen 
fills  in  Europe.  Some  time  ago.  Prince  Auguste  d'Arenberg 
(whose  cook  is  an  artist  of  a  genius  every  way  worthy  the  age,) 
lent  me  a  book,  very  recently  published.  It  is,  I  lament  to  say, 
the  last  words  of  the  immortal  Careme,  (M.  Lent  we  should  call 
him,  being  interpreted,  whichis  a  Incus  a  non  lucendo,)  but  was 
meant  by  the  great  man,  for  whose  premature  death  Paris  is  (or 
ought  to  be)  still  in  tears,  as  only  the  beginning  of  a  work  on 
which  he  meant  to  build  his  fame.  It  is  in  two  volumes,  and 
only  treats  of  soups,  parees,  etc.  This  unrivalled  artist  had  been 
in  Fngland,  where  he  received  £500  a  year  from  the  Prince  Re- 
gent, but  feeling  that  he  owed  his  services  to  his  country,  and 


PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE.  213 

besides,  like  every  true  genius,  loving  his  art  for  its  own  sake 
♦and  not  for  its  worldly  profits,  he  left  England,  after  a  year's 
sojourn  in  its  uncongenial  smoke,  and  returned  to  the  great  capi- 
tal of  the  eating  and  drinking  world,  where  he  had  the  honor  to 
be  employed  by  Madame  la  baronne  Rothschild.  Lady  Morgan 
there  had  an  opportunity  of  judging  of  the  excellence  which  she 
has  celebrated,  and  Careme's  epistle  to  her,  in  the  work  1  have 
mentioned,  is  a  famous  piece  of  grandiloquence  in  its  way,  rare- 
ly, if  ever,  surpassed  in  our  Congressional  harangues.  He  ap- 
pends to  his  work  what  he  calls  "Maxims,  Thoughts  and  Aphor- 
isms", as  follows : 

"The  culinary  art  is  the  escort  of  European  diplomacy." 

"Your  great  diplomate  must  have  a  cook  renowned  for  making 
good  cheer.  It  is,  then,  indispensable  that  this  man  [to  wit,  the 
diplomatic  gastronome]  be  largely  remunerated  by  his  govern- 
ment, that  he  may  be  influential  and  respected."  [A  truth  yet 
in  the  well  in  America.] 

"The  diplomate  is  the  most  exquisite  judge  of  a  good  dinner." 

"The  ambassador  who  wishes  to  serve  his  country  well,  must 
keep  a  nourishing  table  (table  succulente) :  his  diplomatic  sta- 
tion requires  of  him  the  sacrifice  of  his  fortune,  if  his  country 
is  unable  to  appreciate  the  importance  of  his  noble  mission." 
[Victim  of  honorable  ambition  !] 

These  maxims  may  make  you  laugh,  but  a  diplomate,  in  the 
predicament  pointed  to  in  the  last,  knows  they  are  too  serious  a 
matter  to  make  a  joke  of. 

I  read  this  morning  a  report  made  to  the  French  Chamber  of 
Deputies,  by  a  M.  de  St.  Cricq,  which  rather  chills  my  hopes 
about  the  speedy  establishment  of  the  free  trade  doctrines  in 
France  ;  but  the  very  effort  to  resist  them  implies  their  progress, 
and  I  must  console  myself  and  you  by  singing  the  nullifying 
ga-ira. 

I  think  it  was  to  you  I  expressed  the  opinion  that  the  French 
were,  in  all  respects,  the  same  people  now  as  when  I  was  in  Paris 
fourteen  years  ago.  My  opinion  has  since  undergone  a  great 
change.  When  I  was  in  Paris,  last  summer,  the  politics  of  Eu- 
rope being  in  a  most  uncertain  state,  and  the  terrible  populace  of 
that  unruly  city  having  not  yet  recovered  from  the  agitation  of 
the  5th  and  6th  June  last,  I  thought  nothing  more  probable  than 
that  an  insurrection  might  break  out  any  day  in  the  week,  and 
lead  or  not  (according  to  the  throw  of  the  dice)  to  a  subversion 
of  the  actual  order  of  things,  the  proclamation  of  a  new  repub- 
lic a  la  Francaise,  and  a  universal  conflagration  in  Europe.  I 
was  particularly  struck  (as  other  foreigners  were)  with  the  rude- 
ness and  ferocity  of  the  people  one  meets  with  every  where  in 
such  a  capital,  and  with  the  violent  expressions  of  discontent 
that  found  vent  in  a  thousand  ways.     I  thought  it  extremely 


214  PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE. 

probable  (and  said  so  at  the  time)  that  the  king's  life  would  be 
attempted,  (I  am  not  sure  it  was,  though,)  and  from  the  fiery, 
uncalculating  courage  of  the  whole  French  people, — man,  wo- 
man and  child, — and  the  impetuosity  with  which  they  throw 
themselves  into  any  row,  once  there  is  a  breaking  out  among 
them  nobody  can  say  where  it  will  end.  Then  the  "hero  of  two 
worlds",  Jonathan's  only  guest  and  pensioner,  was  still  harping 
upon  the  democratic ^Sd/e,  (excuse  the  iricism, — scraping"  or 
strumming  is  the  word,)  and  was  going  so  far  as  even  to  wish  to 
introduce  "State  Rights"  into  France.  Lord  have  mercy  upon 
the  grande  nation !  Very  soon  after  I  came  here,  however, 
things  began  to  assume  a  better  aspect, — the  mouvement  (true 
nullies)  party  lost  ground  with  thinking  men, — a  ministry  of 
great  ability  was  formed  out  of  what  are  called  the  Doctrinaires, 
(a  party  answering  precisely  to  the  present  whigs  of  England) ; 
and  no  sooner  had  the  Chambers  been  convened,  than  it  was 
very  evident  they  had  a  tremendous  majority  at  their  back. 
They  plucked  up  courage.  Antwerp  was  taken  on  the  one  side, 
and  the  Duchess  of  Berry  on  the  other.  Then  the  Reform  Par- 
liament is  elected,  and  the  Grey  ministry  carry  every  thing  be- 
fore them ;  and,  to  crown  all,  poor  Madame, — the  heroine  of  a 
national  romance, — the  paragon  of  maternal  devotedness  and 
courage,  proves  enceinte,  and  confesses  her  sins  before  all  Eu- 
rope. Moreover,  the  republique  modele  (the  U.  S.  of  A.)  and 
La  Fayette's  ever  ready  example  of  successful  reform,  fall  as 
flat  in  the  eyes  of  mankind  as  the  Duchess  of  Berry ;  and,  to 
use  the  strong  expression  of  one  of  the  leading  Paris  papers, 
"saves  France  a  whole  avenir  of  revolutions"!  Just  about  the 
time  that  all  eyes  and  mouths  were  opened  upon  the  most  unex- 
pected, but  deeply  instructive  scene  that  was  exhibiting  in  Co- 
lumbia and  Washington,  some  debates  on  one  of  the  favorite 
schemes  of  the  French  liberals  (the  municipal  and  departmental 
administrations)  occurred,  in  which  the  horror  of  federal  weak- 
ness and  distractions  was  expressed  with  all  suitable  force.  In 
short,  the  statues  of  the  leading  nullifiers  ought  to  be  set  up  in 
the  vestibule  of  every  palace  in  Europe,  for  whole  centuries  of 
the  history  of  unsuccessful  popular  rule  are  not  half  so  pregnant 
of  eloquent  defence  of  the  old  monarchical  plan,  as  what  occur- 
red among  you,  from  the  second  Monday  in  October  to  the  1st 
Dec.  But  I  beg  your  pardon.  The  cursed  topic  forced  itself 
upon  me  unsought  and  unwelcome.  In  short,  things  promise 
better  at  this  moment  in  France  than  I  ever  expected  to  see 
them,  and  I  do  not  know  that  that  gifted  country  has  any  thing 
to  envy  (all  things  considered)  any  where  else. 

1  have  said  nothing  to  you,  though  I  have  a  great  deal  to  say, 
about  Catharine  II.  and  her  Russian  confederacy.  I  rather  think 
her  successors  have  found  a  shorter  and  surer  road  to  despotism. 


PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE.  215 

Neither  have  I  time  to  touch  upon  the  dark  topic  you  allude  to. 
Undoubtedly  it  is  full  of  alarm  and  anxiety.  Dangers  surround 
the  subject  on  all  sides  ;  and  to  make  the  prospect  worse,  before 
you  get  this  letter  the  House  of  Commons  will  probably  have 
passed  a  bill  for  universal  emancipation  in  the  British  West  In- 
dies, which,  added  to  St.  Domingo,  will  present  you,  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Mississippi,  a  black  population  of  some  2,000,000, 
free  from  all  restraint  and  ready  for  any  mischief.  The  table  of 
the  House  of  Commons  is  groaning  (as  we  say)  under  petitions 
for  this  consummation,  and  you  have  no  idea  at  all  of  the  horror 
which  slavery  inspires  in  Europe.  That  W****  admits  papers 
of  the  stamp  you  mention,  by  no  means  surprises  me.  He  is  a 
bitter  man  and  hates  the  South.  I  remember  well  a  conversation 
Mr.  Lowndes  and  myself  had  with  him  at  Mr.  Cheves'  table, 
thirteen  years  ago.  And  so  I  have  no  doubt  there  are  many, 
many  others  who  think  as  he  does.  But,  after  all,  what  is  to  be 
done  ?  And  even  suppose  the  worst  that  could  happen  without 
dissolving  the  Union,  would  it,  could  it  be  so  bad  as  the  desper- 
ate hostility  they  would  wage  against  us,  backed  by  the  opinions 
of  all  mankind,  aided  by  the  events  of  the  times,  etc.,  if  they 
were  no  longer  under  the  restraints  (be  they  ever  so  weak)  of 
the  existing  connection  ?  There  is  no  subject  that  has  a  thou- 
sandth part  of  the  interest  this  has  for  me, — I  think  of  it  con- 
tinually, though,  as  G****  said  once  in  the  Legislature,  it  ends 
in  my  not  knowing  what  to  think,  except  that  dangers  are  around 
and  above  and  below  and  within  our  poor  little  State, — which 
may  God  preserve  us  from  !  I  ask  of  heaven  only  that  the  little 
circle  I  am  intimate  with  in  Charleston  should  be  kept  together 
while  I  live, — in  health,  harmony  and  competence  ;  and  that,  on 
my  return,  I  may  myself  be  enabled  to  enjoy  the  same  happi- 
ness, in  my  intercourse  with  it,  with  which  I  have  been  hitherto 
blessed.  We  are  (I  am  quite  sure)  the  last  of  the  race  of  South- 
Carolina  ;  I  see  nothing  before  us  but  decay  and  downfall, — but, 
on  that  very  account,  I  cherish  its  precious  relics  the  more. — "If 
chance  the  sun  with  farewell  sweet,  extend  its  evening  rays," 
etc.  My  ambition  is  dead,  and  I  think  only  of  repose  and  social 
enjoyment  and  usefulness  hereafter.  Yet  my  heart  sinks  within 
me  often  when  I  think  of  what  may  too  soon  be,  and  I  say,  in 
those  touching  words,  "Why  should  not  my  countenance  be  sad, 
when  the  city,  the  place  of  my  fathers'  sepulchres,  lieth  waste, 
and  her  gates  are  burnt  with  fire." 

Take  care  of  yourself,  and  endeavor  to  restore  to  that  city 
what  once  made  it  celebrated,  and  is  now  all  that  makes  it  de- 
sirable, and  believe  me,  dear  Holmes,  with  undiminished  affec- 
tion and  esteem,  yours  ever,  H.  S.  L. 


210  PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE. 


From  Mr.  Legare  to  the  Hon.  A.  Huger. 

Brussels,  15th  Dec,  1834. 

My  dear  finger, — 1  received  your  letter,  dated  somewhere  in 
the  neighborhood  of  the  Virginia  Springs,  some  weeks  ago,  but 
have  put  off  answering  it  in  hopes  of  getting  another  from  yon 
on  your  (then)  expected  arrival  at  Pendleton,  where  one  from 
l ne  was,  yon  said,  waiting  your  coming. 

It  seems,  from  the  state  of  the  polls  at  the  last  election,  that 
I  here  is  a  sort  of  reaction  beginning  against  the  nullifiers.  J 
regard  the  run  made  by  Perry  in  Pendleton  and  Greenville  as 
very  important, — that  is  to  say,  in  the  former,  where  he  must 
have  received  many  votes  to  bring  him  so  near  his  competitor. 
J  feel  animated  by  this  change,  and  am  half  disposed  to  cry  out 
with  Wellington,  after  the  last  fatal  failure  at  Waterloo,  "Now, 
boys,  up  and  at  them."  As  long  as  we  were  a  wronged  people, 
as  we  were  before  the  last  tariff  act,  and  so  many  of  us  com- 
promised by  loud  and  vehement  invectives  against  the  usurpa- 
tions of  the  federal  government,  it  was  absolutely  impossible  to 
oppose  a  party  dwelling  upon  such  topics  and  wielding  such  re- 
sources as  theirs.  I  felt  all  the  unspeakable  difficulty  of  that 
position  in  the  debate  of  1S2S,  and  though  I  succeeded  then,  am 
very  sure  1  should  have  failed  in  1830.  That  was  my  reason 
for  renouncing  my  seat.  I  wished  to  husband  my  resources  for 
better  days,  for  it  is  a  great  mistake  in  a  public  man  to  suffer 
himself  to  be  used  up  by  unavailing  and  feeble  efforts  made  mal- 
apropos. Besides  this,  the  indignation  excited  in  a  brave  people 
by  a  system  of  oppression,  not  only  confessed  to  by  us  all,  but 
first  and  most  passionately  denounced  by  some  of  us,  (myself 
especially,)  had,  by  the  contrivance  of  their  demagogues,  raised 
one  of  those  popular  storms  where  resistance  is  perfectly  out  of 
the  question,  and  nothing  remains  to  be  done  but  to  give  way 
and  send  for  it,  or  lie  to  until  the  wind  lulls.  No  man  ever  yet 
opposed  such  a  movement  with  success,  in  any  country  under 
the  sun  ;  and  those  who  talk  about  what  Mirabeau  would  have 
done  had  he  lived,  to  save  the  monarchy,  have  read  the  story  of 
that  day  in  vain.  He  certainly  would  have  had  his  head  chop- 
ped off  before  '94,  and  his  body  thrown  where  his  ashes  after- 
wards were.  So  would  Bonaparte  have  fared,  at  that  period,  or 
any  other,  before  men  got  sick  of  the  hair-brained  metaphysi- 
cians and  empirical  demagogues  that  brought  France,  at  last,  to 
the  brink  of  ruin.  To  spit  against  such  a  wind,  is,  as  Franklin 
or  some  other  sage  says,  just  to  spit  in  one's  own  face.  Besides, 
how  could  one  who  deeply  felt  the  injustice  of  the  tariff,  answer 
it  to  his  conscience,  if  it  came  to  a  fight,  to  take  part  with  the 
oppressor,  merely  because  his  victim  felt  his  wrongs  too  keenly  ? 

The  arts,  therefore,   practised  bv  their  demagogues,   for  ends 


PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE.  217 

how  perfectly  explained  by  their  recent  coalition  with  thewhigs, 
might  have  been  pardoned  and  forgotten,  in  consideration  of  the 
good  they  had  been  the  means  of  doing,  had  not  their  wanton 
return  to  the  charge,  without  one  colorable  motive  for  such  an 
audacious  attack  upon  all  our  hereditary  liberties,  after  every 
grief  had  been  redressed,  and  in  the  midst  of  all  the  honest  gra- 
tulations  which  a  whole  people,  rescued  from  such  a  fearful  crisis, 
were  offering  each  other,  in  the  best  spirit  of  amity  and  mutual 
confidence  and  forbearance, — revealed  the  strangest  perversion, 
either  of  head  or  heart,  that  has  ever  yet  been  witnessed  in  our 
still  comparatively  blessed  country,— and  such  a  one  as  I  doubt 
whether  even  Jefferson  himself  would  have  approved,  tho'  the 
majority  of  Virginians  have  not  disapproved  it,  at  least. 

But  revenons  a  nos  moutons.  I  am  led  to  think,  from  all  I 
hear,  that  c******'s  theory  is  ended  in  fanaticism.  Nullification  is, 
with  him,  it  seems,  what  the  French  call  an  idee  fixe, — a  mono- 
mania,— in  short,  he  is  quoad  hoc,  stark  mad,  just  asH*****  is, 
and  perhaps  one  or  two  more  of  their  leaders.  It  is  really  la- 
mentable to  think  that  c******'s  pre-eminent  abilities  as  a  poli- 
tician have  been  so  wofully  misapplied.  There  is  nobody  to  be 
compared  with  him  in  the  management  of  men  and  affairs, — in 
mere  discussion  he  is  not  equal  to  Webster,  whose  genius  besides 
has  a  beauty  and  elegance  that  the  other  is  quite  destitute  of. 
I  have  no  hesitation  in  saying,  however,  that  lie  is  by  far  the 
fittest  man  in  the  country  for  the  presidential  chair,  and  that, 
even  now,  I  have  no  doubt,  power  would  cure  him  of  his  meta- 
physical delusions,  as  it  did  once  before. 

You  seem  very  earnest  in  dissuading  me  from  my  purpose  of 
returning ;  and  really  the  motives  you  urge  for  my  remaining 
where  I  am  are  very  plausible.  If  I  consulted  only  my  own 
ease,  I  should  certainly  take  your  advice  ;  but  I  can't  consent  to 
do  that.  No  man  is  free  to  dispose  of  himself  according  to  his 
enlightened  judgment.  Our  tastes,  our  character,  our  ruling 
passions, — these  are  our  destiny.  I  am  extremely  well  off  here, 
but  it  is  Rasselas  in  the  happy  valley ;  and  the  sort  of  occupa- 
tion I  have  always  hankered  after  is  precisely  what  I  want.  I 
must  own,  too,  that,  without  having  the  least  spark  of  ambition, 
i.  e.,  the  love  of  power  or  the  love  of  place,  I  feel  that  the  post 
I  occupy  is  rather  below  me ;  at  all  events,  that,  as  a  private  in- 
dividual, I  shall  possess  more  true  importance  in  the  exercise  of 
my  poor  abilities,  and  enjoy  more  self-approbation.  I  shall,  there- 
fore, on  no  account  remain  at  Brussels  longer  than  next  June 
twelvemonth, — when  I  shall  have  been  four  years  from  home. 
You  may  expect  me,  therefore,  in  Carolina,  in  the  autumn  of 
1836.  I  know  what  I  have  to  expect,  but  the  truth  is  that,  after 
living  so  long  a  time  as  I  have  here,  I  shall  have  no  wish  what- 
ever to  mix  with  the  world  in  America.  Not  that  I  shall  be  at 
vol.  i.— 28 


218  PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE. 

war  with  it,  lor  1  trust,  on  the  contrary,  that  I  shall  enjoy  great 
peace  of  mind  for  the  rest  of  my  days ;  but  I  shall  wish  to  form 
no  social  connections  beyond  the  few  that  are  now  dear  to  me, — 
I  shall  live  only  for  usefulness  and  virtue.  No  one  can  be  more 
sure  of  his  determinations  than  one  whose  experience  is,  in  all 
respects,  what  mine  lias  been  both  in  pleasure  and  pain. 

Fortunately  for  you,  as  I  came  to  the  end  of  the  last  sentence, 
my  servant  announced  dinner,  and  broke  oil  the  thread  of  a  dis- 
course which  promised  to  be  as  long  and  stupid  as  a  congres- 
sional speech.  Apropos  or  long  speeches,  I  suppose  you  have 
felt  more  even  than  the  generality  of  people  on  the  occasion  of 
poor  Grimke's  death, — considering  how  great  a  veneration  you 
always  expressed  for  his  many  virtues.  I  used  to  envy  him  that 
faith  which  could  move  mountains,  with  hope  and  charity  to 
suit  it.  He  saw  every  thing  in  America  couleur  de  rose.  He 
wrote  to  me  just  after  the  fracas  about  nullification  and  the 
pulling  oi  the  President's  nose,  and  told  me  he  was  more  than 
ever  convinced  that  our  affairs  were  in  the  best  possible  condi- 
tion and  our  prospects  brighter  than  ever.  Voltaire's  Pangloss 
was  a  fool  to  him  in  optimism.  But  if  his  notions  were,  many 
of  them,  very  odd,  and  even  wild  and  pernicious,  (for  so  I  think 
some  of  them  were,)  nobody  can  doubt  his  surpassing  moral 
excellencies.  Stephen  Elliott,  John  Gadsden,  and  now  Griinke  : 
just  consider  what  an  irreparable  loss  for  so  small  a  community, 
in  the  last  five  years,  and  that  of  men  the  oldest  of  whom  was 
only  fifty-eight  years,  and  the  others  in  what  is  considered,  in 
Europe,  as  the  very  prime  of  life.  The  worst  of  it  is  that,  as 
such  persons  have  never  been  produced  any  where  else  in  Amer- 
ica than  in  the  low  country  of  South-Carolina,  so  that  soil  is 
now  worn  out,  and,  instead  of  these  oaks  of  the  forest,  its  noble 
original  growth,  is  sending  up,  like  its  old  fields  left  to  run  to 
waste,  thickets  of  stunted  loblolly  pine,  half  choked  with  broom 
grass  and  door  fennel.  Take  it  all  together,  there  are  few  spec- 
tacles so  affecting  as  the  decay  of  our  poor  parish  country,  which 
I  often  think  of.  even  at  this  distance,  with  the  fondness  of  dis- 
appointed love :  for  I  have  never,  since  I  could  form  an  opinion 
on  such  matters,  doubted  of  the  immense  superiority  of  Carolina 
society  over  all  others  on  that  continent,  and  now  feel  it  more 
than  ever.  The  result  of  this  state  of  feeling,  however,  is  rather 
fortunate  as  things  stand  ;  if  exile  is  to  be  one's  doom,  it  is  bet- 
ter to  be  able  to  say,  like  the  old  philosopher,  to  those  who  con- 
demned him  to  it,  that  they  are  condemned  to  stay  behind.  I 
have  heard  of  a  whole  host  of  deaths, — Horry,  Lewis  Simons, 
(an  excellent  man,)  old  Mr.  Simons,  etc.,  etc.,— not  forgetting 
those  rare  rivals  in  making  the  fun  stir  on  Pon  Pon,  S******* 
S*"*  and  H****  M********,— Carolinians,  both,  in  their  good  as 
well  as  their  bad  qualities. 


PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE.  219 

The  great,  news  of  the  day,  here,  is  the  restoration  of  Wel- 
lington and  Peel.  Sir  Robert  is  arrived  at  London  at  last,  has 
accepted  office  and  is  trying  to  form  a  ministry,  but  we  don't  as 
yet  know  the  result.  It  seems  Mr.,  now  Lord  Stanley,  who  left 
the  whigs  on  the  question  of  Irish  tithes,  has  been  applied  to,  as 
indeed  was  inevitable,  to  take  one  of  the  folios,  and  the  report 
was,  at  our  last  advices,  that  he  had  declined.  If  that  is  so,  the 
game  is  up  with  the  tories,  for  their  only  chance  was  to  come  in 
as  conservatives  and  rally  all  moderate  men,  friends  of  the  pre- 
sent constitution  in  church  and  state,  against  Lord  Durham  and 
the  radicals, — and,  I  confess,  I  thought  they  would  probably 
succeed,  for  I  can't  understand  a  whig  of  Stanley's  description, 
or,  indeed,  any  whig  at  all,  not  a  radical,  standing  out  upon  a 
mere  difference  of  name  and  history,  when  there  is  a  complete 
identity  of  principle  and  purpose, — as  there  can  be  no  doubt 
there  is  between  the  moderate  tories  and  them.  Brougham,  the 
late  lord  chancellor,  who  was  a  low  fellow  and  an  arrant  moun- 
tebank, did  the  mischief,  and  has  gone  down  with  a  crash  that 
has  not  left,  one  stone  of  the  whole  fabric  of  his  reputation  and 
fortune  standing  upon  another.  As  Madame  de  Stael  once  said 
of  La  Fayette, — he  is  like  a  tallow  candle,  qui  ne  brille  que 
pour  le  peuple,  et  qui  puere  en  seteignant.  Lord  Lansdowne, 
who  was  president  of  the  council,  passed  through  Brussels  some 
weeks  ago,  just  before  the  explosion.  I  met  him  several  times 
at  dinners,  and  had  long  conversations  with  him  about  the  state 
of  things  in  England,  where  I  had  seen  him  in  June.  He  had 
not  the  remotest  idea  of  being  out  so  soon, — for  the  Duke  was 
sent  for  before  he  had  time  to  get  back  to  London  from  Paris, 
whither  he  went  from  this.  Their  fall  must  have  astonished 
them  very  much,  though,  I  confess,  it  did  not  surprise  me  after 
what  I  saw  in  London  and  heard  in  the  House  of  Commons. 
Believe  me,  faithfully  yours,  H.  S.  L. 

P.  S.     I  am  sure,  if  I  had  a  chance,  I  could  make  a  rousing 
speech  at  York  or  Lancaster. 


The  same  to  the  same. 

Brussels,  12th  May,  1835. 

My  dear  Huger, — I  have  this  moment  received  your  letters 
of  the  12th  and  20th  March,  and  hasten  to  acknowledge  their 
receipt  before  closing  a  despatch  which  is  to  go  off  presently. 

It  will  give  you  some  idea  of  the  frequency  and  fulness  of 
my  communications  with  the  United  States,  though  living  in  a 
city  which  is  literally  the  thoroughfare  of  Europe,  to  state  that 
this  letter  of  yours  is  the  very  first  information  I  have  had  of 
your  being  the  postmaster, — a  piece  of  intelligence  in  every  re- 


220  PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE. 

spect  so  agreeable  and  interesting  to  me,  might  have  been  com- 
municated in  five  words.  The  last  letter  I  got  from  Petigru  was 
dated  so  long  ago  as  the  15th  or  16th  Dec,  although  I  have 
written  to  him  three  or  four  since  that  time,  and  two  of  them 
very  long  ones.  It  is  this  almost  total  want  ot  correspondence 
with  my  home,  that  makes  me  feel  a  crowning  void  in  my  bo- 
som here,  which  nothing  in  a  sufficiently  advantageous  position 
in  Europe  can  fill  up.  1  am  essentially,  and  by  blood  and  bone, 
a  domestic  man.  I  do  not  believe  any  human  being  ever  was 
created,  more  liable  to  home-sickness  or  nostalgia  than  I  am  ; 
and  although  loving  and  enjoying  society  very  intensely,  it  is 
only  the  most  select  society,  and  especially  that  of  people  that  I 
love  and  that  love  me.  I  have  some  such  here,  whom  I  shall 
leave  with  infinite  regret,  but,  of  course,  nothing  can  replace  the 
set  among  whom  I  was  formed, — whose  maniere  de  voir  and 
manure  d'etre  are  mine, — and  in  which  I  am  sure  of  what  I  so 
infinitely  prefer  to  the  highest  personal  consideration,  or  even 
admiration, — sympathy.  Here,  I  have  certainly  no  reason  in 
the  world  to  complain  of  the  sort  of  estimation  in  which  I  am 
held,  but  then  I  am  a  foreigner,  and  they  are  foreigners, — I  come, 
as  M.  de  Dietrichstein,  the  Austrian  envoy,  always  says,  "from 
the  other  world";  and  what  interests  me  most  profoundly, — 
events  in  which  the  destinies  of  my  country  and  of  all  I  love 
and  care  for  are  involved, — are,  to  them,  like  so  many  phenom- 
ena of  the  most  distant  stars  in  the  firmament.  The  American 
newspapers  never  fail  to  bring  me  painful  intelligence,  of  some 
sort  or  other,  (for  things  are  really  getting  worse  and  worse  with 
us,)  and  yet  I  have  to  bury  it  all  within  me,  and  when  I  want 
to  express  my  opinions  or  feelings  on  such  subjects,  I  have  to 
order  post-horses  and  go  to  our  consul,  Mr.  Patterson,  at  An- 
twerp, as  I  did  last  week. 

If  that  mismanaged  and  vexatious  French  affair  don't  lead 
to  a  war,  I  shall  see  you,  I  hope,  some  time  between  next 
December  and  December  twelvemonth  at  farthest,  and,  at  all 
events,  I  suppose,  by  this  last  mentioned  period.  I  enclose  yon 
a  newspaper,  which  has  been  lying  by  me  for  some  time.  It 
touches,  as  you  will  perceive,  that  awful  slave  question,  which 
public  opinion  in  Europe  is  beginning  to  busy  itself  about  in  a 
manner  calculated  to  awaken  all  the  solicitude  of  a  Southern 
man.  In  England,  especially,  people  seem  to  be  growing  fanati- 
cal, and,  as  poor  Grimke  predicted  in  that  speech  at  the  Irish 
meeting  in  Charleston,  in  which  he  floored  us  all  so  horribly, 
disposed  to  repay  us,  with  usurious  interest,  the  benevolent  in- 
tentions we  have  from  time  to  time  been  showing  for  the  op- 
pressed of  other  nations.  I  do  not  wish  you  to  make  this  paper 
at  all  public.  It  can  do  no  good,  and  will  probably  do  much 
harm.     But  you,  and  such  as  you,  ought  to  be  informed  of  the 


PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE.  221 

signs  of  the  times  in  so  interesting  a  matter, — not  to  be  alarmed, 
but  to  be  on  your  guard.  If  the  Union  were  dissolved,  depend 
upon  it  you  would  have  to  encounter  assaults  from  across  the  At- 
lantic, to  which  the  machinations  of  the  Yankee  zealots,  (but  are 
there  and  have  there  ever  been  any  Yankee  zealots  ?)  that  McD. 
is  raving  about,  are  mere  child's  play. — But  I  have  not  time  to 
talk  politics.     A  word  to  the  wise. 

Believe  me,  etc.,  H.  S.  L. 


The  same  to  the  same. 

Brussels,  21st  Nov.,  1S35. 
My  dear  Huger, — On  my  arrival  here  yesterday  evening  from 
Paris,  where  I  have  been  spending  some  weeks,  (the  king  of  the 
Belgians  being  there,)  I  received  your  letter  of  the  29th  Sept., 
which,  in  spite  of  all  your  efforts  to  disguise  your  heaviness  of 
heart,  showed  quite  enough  of  it  to  cause  it  in  mine.  It  is  true 
I  was  wofully  predisposed  to  take  the  complaint;  for,  not  to 
speak  of  the  contents  of  our  newspapers,  which  have  produced 
an  effect  in  Europe  not  to  be  exaggerated, — I  mean  in  making 
our  experiment  in  federal-republican  government  be  universally 
regarded  as  a  failure.  I  had  met  with  some  persons  from  Caro- 
lina at  Paris,  whose  accounts  of  matters  there  were  darker  by 
far  even  than  my  worst  imaginings, — and  God  knows  that  is 
saying  every  thing.  Young  Dr.  Nott  (who  married  Mr.  Deas 
of  Camden's  daughter)  and  his  wife  represent  the  whole  country 
about  the  Wateree  and  Congaree,  including  that  town  and  Co- 
lumbia, as  literally  breaking  up  and  moving  off  en  masse  to  the 
West.  Not  only  is  it  truly  afflicting,  for  one  so  much  under  the 
influence  of  local  attachment  as  I  am,  to  think  of  the  old  fami- 
lies of  the  State  leaving  their  homes  in  it  forever,  but  there  is  a 
still  more  serious  and  deeper  cause  of  regret  in  such  a  state  of 
facts.  It  shews,  what  I  have  always  felt,  how  terribly  uncertain 
our  whole  existence  in  the  South  is.  I  remember,  in  better  days, 
just  after  my  former  return  from  Europe,  I  used  to  regard  with 
horror  those  deserted  settlements,  in  which,  after  a  few  years, 
the  young  pine  trees  sprang  up  in  the  fields  left  to  waste,  and 
among  the  dilapidated  buildings,  as  if  the  forest,  as  jealous  as 
the  sea,  were  impatient  to  obliterate  every  trace  of  the  vain  at- 
tempt of  man  to  invade  its  vast  domains.  But  then  it  was  only 
Goose  Creek.  Williamsburg  and  St.  Stephens',  and  perhaps,  here 
and  there,  some  other  spots,  while  the  progress  of  the  back  and 
middle  country  seemed  amply  to  compensate  for  these  partial 
instances  of  decay.  Now,  the  disease  is,  it  appears,  universal, 
and  South-Carolina,  excepting  the  old  parish  country,  is  to  be 
abandoned  like  a  steppe  in  Mongolia  or  Tartary  !  And  this,  too, 


PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE. 

remark  if  you  please,  is  the  condition  of  the  whole  South, — the 
new  States  will  soon  be  exhausted  in  their  turn, — and  Alabama 
and  Mississippi  be  deserted  by  their  migratory  possessors  for 
Texas.  Now,  if  it  be  true  that  fixed  land  property  is  of  the 
essence  of  civil  society,  properly  so  called,  what  shall  we  think 
of  our  prospects  as  a  nation, — a  people, — South  of  the  Potomac  ! 
Alas !  my  dear  friend,  the  Judge  is  right,  as  I  very  much 
fear,  and,  indeed,  have  more  than  feared,  ever  since  I  saw  the 
success  of  nullification  in  demoralizing  some  of  our  best  people. 
In  America,  you  are  not  aware  of  what  is  going  on  about  you, 
or  are  too  familiar  with  it  to  appreciate  its  fearful  character. 
Seen  from  Europe,  and  examined  with  reference  to  the  expe- 
rience of  mankind  in  this  old  seat  of  their  follies  and  sufferings, 
I  have  already  hinted  to  you  that  it  is  thought  as  bad  as  bad  can 
be.  Nor  is  this  opinion  confined  to  any  one  party, — it  is  literally 
universal.  I  enclose  you  half  a  newspaper,  in  which  you  will 
see  extracts  from  several  others,  embracing  all  the  varieties  of 
political  sects.  I  beg  you  to  observe  particularly,  as  a  Southern 
man,  and  to  call  our  friends'  attention  to  it,  to  what  these  re- 
marks relate.  Depend  upon  it,  if  you  go  out  of  the  Union  on 
that  subject,  you  are  gone  without  remedy  or  hope  of  salvation. 
Look  at  O'Connell,  now  the  great  agitator  of  England,  and  repre- 
senting the  party  that  is  already  in  the  ascendant  here.  He  never 
lets  slip  an  occasion  to  denounce  us,  with  Nicholas  '-the  mur- 
derer of  the  women  and  children  of  Warsaw",  as  objects  of  ab- 
horrence and  vengeance.  So,  as  soon  as  Barton  took  his  pass- 
ports, the  Journal  des  Debats,  the  ^was^-government  paper  at 
Paris,  opened  against  you,  and  said  it  was  high  time  for  Europe 
to  speak  out  on  that  subject,  and  encourage  and  strengthen  the 
abolitionists  in  the  work  they  had  undertaken.  A  French  fleet 
goes  out  to  the  Antilles,  without  doubt,  in  contemplation  of  a 
war ;  and  should  such  an  event  happen,  you  will  see  to  what 
point  they  will  direct  their  attack  and  with  what  arms  they  will 
carry  on  the  contest.  The  age  in  which  we  live  is,  more  than 
all  things  else,  the  age  of  great  empires  ;  and  wo  to  the  people 
that  deliberately  throws  away  that  advantage,  under  any  circum- 
stances whatever,  but,  most  of  all,  when  the  first  effect  of  its 
doinof  so  will  be  to  isolate  it  among  the  rest,  with  institutions 
which  they  all  denounce, — with  half  its  population  at  war  with 
the  other  half, — with  a  government  yet  to  form,  and  spring- 
ing up  (as  it  must)  in  the  midst  of  ultra  democratic  disorders 
and  the  storm  of  a  civil  convulsion  and  excess.  In  short, 
whatever  some  of  us  may  think  of  the  expediency  of  having 
originally  established  a  Southern  confederacy  instead  of  the 
present,  the  day  is  forever  gone  by, — all  the  mischief,  whatever 
it  be,  is  done  already,  — and  things  can  only  be  made  worse,  and 
desperately  worse,  by  an  attempt  (a  vain  attempt  besides  it  would 


PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE.  223 

be,  for  the  South  will  not  make  a  united  people)  to  rectify  the 
mistake  now. 

My  pen  has  literally  run  away  with  me,  for  it  was  not  my  in- 
tention to  have  touched  upon  this  subject  in  this  letter  to  you  ; 
but  you  have  set  certain  chords  vibrating  in  my  heart,  that  make 
me  utter  such  things  in  spite  of  myself.  The  thing  you  call 
tyranny,  is  so  ;  the  most  unbearable  of  all, — that  which  has 
made  men  to  run  for  refuge  to  any  other  form  of  society,  how- 
ever galling  and  odious.  What  makes  the  case  yet  more  deplor- 
able is  that,  by  an  eternal  law  of  nature,  the  only  way  by  which 
such  evils,  when  they  once  become  serious,  can  be  mended,  is 
by  making  them  too  bad  to  be  borne.  That  is  the  rub, — vesti- 
gia nulla  retrorsum, — every  thing  must  be  shaken  down  and 
washed  away, —  society  must  be  supplanted  by  complete  anar- 
chy, and  men  have  supped  full  of  horrors  and  misery,  before  they 
dare  to  arrest  such  things :  and  then,  great  God !  by  what  a 
remedy  are  they  compelled  to  arrest  them  !  And  is  it  wonderful 
that  we,  the  haughtiest  of  the  free, — the  most  enthusiastic  lovers 
of  the  blessed  order  of  things  under  which  we  were  born  and 
educated, — that  we  should  feel  our  hearts  breaking  as  we  survey 
the  appalling  prospect  around  us? 

Only  think  of  the  false  position  in  which  that  noble  colony, 
of  which  we  still  love  and  admire  the  last  ruins,  was  placed,  in 
the  pestilential  swamps  of  Carolina  ?  What  a  people  would  it 
otherwise  have  grown  to  :  and  how  should  we  have  shone  among 
nations,  had  our  now  almost  exhausted  strength  have  borne  any 
proportion  to  the  politeness  of  manners  and  generosity  of  spirit 
which  have  ever  distinguished  our  race  ? 

With  regard  to  what  is  doing  in  the  South,  I  think  it  rather 
to  be  deplored  than  wondered  at, — indeed,  it  isn't  to  be  wonder- 
ed at  at  all.  JSalus  populi  suprema  lex  esto,  is  the  foundation 
of  all  codes.  It  is,  indeed,  an  instinct,  and  the  strongest  ot  in- 
stincts. You  may  just  as  well  reason  with  a  man  drinking  his 
fellow-passengers'  blood,  in  a  long-boat  twenty  days  at  sea  after 
a  shipwreck,  about  doing  no  murder.  So  as  to  the  post-office. 
Stop  the  pamphlets,  certainly,  and  P*****  (for  I  recognized  his 
hand  immediately  in  a  letter  to  Gouverneur  at  New- York)  is 
quite  right  in  saying  Kendall  did  not  push  the  matter  as  far  as 
it  could  go,  in  his  (otherwise  well  written)  rescript.  But  then, 
p*****#  js  most  ceria'iniy  wrong  in  supposing  that  Tappan,  etc., 
may  be  demanded.  The  Northern  people  dare  not  give  up  those 
men.  Nay,  it  would  not  be  suffered, — and,  if  it  were,  it  would  do 
infinitely  more  harm  than  good  to  us,  by  putting  us  in  the  wrong 
(the  worst  of  all  misfortunes),  and  embittering  against  us  the  feel- 
ings of  all  good  men,  of  all  nations  under  the  sun.  You  have 
done  enough  for  the  present,— at   least  enough :  let  the  South 


J  J  )  PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE. 

be  still, at  least,  let  it  be  satisfied  with  the  very  kind  demon- 
strations of  the  North  :  let  it  not  push  matters  so  far  that  men 
of  all  parties  there  will  feel  themselves  bound  in  honor  to  make 
war  on  ns.  We  ought  to  think  only  of  calling  on  Congress  for 
some  of  the  surplus  money  for  our  defence, — for  we  must  come 
to  actual  defence,  and  give  up  Lynch  law, — a  good  thing  only 
in  the  absence  of  all  other  good  things,  and  in  the  midst  of  all 
evil  ones.  I  hav'n't  time  to  say  more  on  this  subject  now,  but 
shall  probably  write  soon  to  P******  about  it. 

With  regard  to  your  enquiries  about  my  poor  self,  do  you 
think,  dear  Huger,  that  one  whose  illusions  have  been  all,  one 
after  another, — "star  by  star," — dispelled,  can  have  the  heart  to 
think  of  himself?  "Satisfy  my  ambition  !" — Why  I  never  had 
any  ambition,  properly  so  called  :  it  was,  perhaps,  my  bane  to 
have  none  :  the  aspiring  after  excellence,  which  people  mistook 
for  what  it  is  so  different  from,  was  for  its  own  sake,  and,  I  will 
add,  with  the  hope  of  being  useful  to  a  country  of  which  I  was 
proud  and  felt  honored  to  serve.  My  immense  labor  for  the 
.Southern  Review,  (which  they  saddled  me  with,  as  if  it  had 
been  an  hereditary  estate,)  do  you  think  I  went  through  so  many 
nights  (summer  nights,  too)  of  watching  and  toil,  because  I 
hoped  to  be  spoken  of  with  some  terms  of  compliment  in  our 
own  newspapers,  or  even  by  foreigners  ?  If  so,  why  don't  I 
write  now,  when  pressed  to  do  so  7  No — no.  I  thought  I  could 
help  to  shew  that  people  did  not  know  what  our  race  was : — 
I  felt  that,  in  speaking  its  language,  I  should  be  thought  elo- 
quent,— and  I  have  not  been  mistaken.  But  I  wrote  as  an  Amer- 
ican, and,  especially,  as  a  Carolinian, — and  for  some  reasons  you 
wot  of,  I  fear,  "Othello's  occupation's  gone."  At  all  events,  as 
you  will  probably  have  learned  ere  now,  tor  better  for  worse,  I 
return  next  summer, — certainly  with  a  heavy  heart,  and  almost 
despairing  of  all  I  ever  wished  to  see  realized,  but  with  a  deter- 
mination to  do  what  I  can  to  make  myself  useful, — if  it  be  pos- 
sible. You  may,  for  instance,  count  upon  your  wines,  if  I  can 
procure  them  of  a  delicate  taste,  though,  for  my  own  part,  you 
will  be  surprised  to  learn  that,  for  some  fifteen  months  past  and 
more,  I  hardly  ever  do  more  than  taste  wine,  and  am  a  very 
pattern  of  sobriety  in  meat  and  drink, — to  avoid  gout  and  some 
other  appurtenances  of  my  forefathers'  constitutions. 

Your  Jew  made  me  smile  sadly, — for  it  reminded  me  of  poor 
B**  H****'s  hearty  laugh  fifteen  years  ago,  at  the  horror  I  ex- 
pressed at  a  certain  "Marchand  en  fer," — which  he  called  the  last 
dying  embers  of  aristocracy. 

Pray  remember  me  to  Madame,  the  Judge  and  all,  and  believe 
me  ever  yours,  H.  S.  L. 


PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE.  225 


Mr.  Legare  to  his  sister. 

Brussels,  May  5,  1S33. 

My  dear  Mary, —  *  *  *  Something  more  than  a  week  ago 
1  went  to  Antwerp,  to  breathe  once  more  the  air  of  the  sea  and 
see  a  ship,  —two  things  that  I  never  feel  easy  in  being  separated 
from  for  any  length  of  time.  While  there  I  bought  you  a  pretty 
collection  of  the  newest  and  most  fashionable  music  I  could  find. 
Among  the  pieces  sent,  you  will  find  no  less  than  one  hundred 
overtures  by  all  the  most  celebrated  composers,  together  with 
favorite  waltzes  and  gallopades,  played  and  danced  every  where 
in  Europe, — pot-pourris  for  the  piano-forte,  made  up  of  varia- 
tions on  favorite  motifs  of  some  popular  operas,  such  as  Robert 
le  Diable, — a  magnificent  affair  by  Meyerbeer,  a  German,  brought 
out  at  the  grand  opera  at  Paris  last  year, — the  Muette  di  Portici 
of  Auber, — Zampa,  or  La  Fiancee  de  Marbre,  by  the  same,  etc., 
etc.  I  left  the  parcel  with  Mr.  Patterson,  our  consul  there,  who 
promises  to  take  particular  care  it  shall  be  carried  safely  to  you. 
The  music  of  Zampa  is  excessively  admired  here,  as  well  as 
that  of  the  Muette,  which  pleases  me  more.  The  whole  second 
act  of  the  latter  runs  upon  the  air,  "Amis  la  matinee  est  belle", 
and  is  very  spirited  and  agreeable.  Robert  le  Diable  is  a  master- 
piece of  musical  composition,  which  puts  Meyerbeer  upon  an 
equality  with  Rossini,  and  it  is  got  up  at  Paris  with  all  the  pomp 
and  splendor  of  their  unrivalled  opera.  The  subject  is  a  fine 
one,  and  gives  a  sort  of  epic,  religious  grandeur  and  solemnity 
to  the  whole  exhibition,  which  recalls  the  sacred  music  and  gor- 
geous though  gloomy  display  of  the  Romish  service,  in  one  of 
their  glorious  old  Gothic  cathedrals.  The  scene,  especially,  in 
which  Count  Robert's  father,  Bertram,  (the  devil  in  human  form,) 
contends  for  the  soul  of  his  son  with  Alice,  the  depositary  of 
Robert's  departed  mother's  fatal  secret  and  last  injunctions,  is 
admirably  executed.  The  part  of  Alice  was  performed  by  Mad. 
Falcon,  who  both  sung  and  acted  with  all  the  vehement  zeal  and 
energy  required  by  a  struggle  about  a  human  being's  eternal 
welfare,  with  an  infernal  adversary  present  in  flesh  and  blood. 
I  never  felt  so  much  interested  in  an  opera  before, — I  mean  so 
rationally  interested,  for  you  know  I  have  always  been  exces- 
sively in  love  with  that  charming  spectacle. 

At  Antwerp,  where  I  passed  last  Sunday,  visiting  the  churches, 
I  had  an  opportunity,  which  I  wish  you  could  have  enjoyed 
with  me,  of  seeing  once  more  the  most  renowned  master-pieces 
of  the  Flemish  school.  I  went  to  the  cathedral  at  nine  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  and  was  present  at  high  mass.  You  may  re- 
member hearing  me  speak  of  this  admirable  church,  after  my 
return  from  Europe  thirteen  years  ago.  It  is  an  immense  edifice, 
which  was  building  during  the  whole  of  the  fifteenth  century, 
vol.  i.— 29 


226  PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE. 

the  period  of  Antwerp's  greatest  commercial  prosperity, and  when, 
indeed,  it  was  the  great  centre  of  European  business  and  capital. 
Its  spire,  which  is  upwards  of  460  feet  high,  is  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  remains  of  that  sort  of  architecture  extant ;  and  the 
interior  is  distinguished  by  the  grandeur  of  its  effect,  owing  to 
its  vastness,  the  immense  height  of  the  roof,  the  colossal  magni- 
tude of  its  pillars,  and  the  perfect  simplicity  of  the  style.    Judge 
for  yourself  what  an  impression  a  building  500  feet  long,  230 
wide,  and  360  high,  presenting  the  most  imposing  Gothic  forms, 
consecrated  to  religion,  resounding  with   the  voice  of  Christian 
thanksgiving  and  supplication,  and  adorned  with  the  master- 
pieces of  trenius, — must  make.     But  you  know  I  hate  descrip- 
tions, and  so  I  will  proceed  merely  to  tell  yon  that  I  gazed  once 
more  and  with  increased  pleasure  upon  the  three  famous  works 
of  Rubens,  that  belong  to  the  cathedral, — the  "Elevation  of  the 
Cross"  on  the  left,  and  the  "Descent"'  from  it,  on  the  right  of  the 
nave,  in  the  cross  aisle,  and  the  "Ascension  of  the  Virgin"  over 
the  grand  altar  in  the  choir.     One  of  the  wings  of  ihe  first  of 
these  pictures  is  the  "Visitation",  which  is  a  charming  picture, 
and  I  looked  for  half  an  hour,  at   least,  with  doating  pleasure, 
upon  the  sweet  and  modest  countenance  of  the  conscious  virgin- 
mother.     At  a  later  hour  of  the  day  Mr.  Patterson  joined  me, 
and  getting  into  my  catiche,  we  drove  to  the  church  of  St.  James. 
This  wonderful  monument,  or  collection  of  monuments,   had 
either  escaped  my  observation  the  first  time  I  visited  Antwerp, 
or  (which  is  hardly  credible)  my  recollection  since.  I  have  never 
seen  any  thing  half  so  rich  as  this  treasure,  whether  it  be  con- 
sidered with  regard  to  the  display  of  all  the  finery  of  the  Romish 
church  in  the  day  of  its  splendor,  or  the  assemblage  of  a  still 
more  striking  variety  and  multitude  of  works  of  art.     To  be 
sure,  I  have  never  been  in  Italy,  and  the  French  revolution  has 
swept  all  the  Continental  churches  I  have  seen  with  its  besom 
of  destruction, — while  the  zeal   of  the  reformers  had  stripped 
those  of  England  and  Scotland  of  all  the  frippery  of  the  spiritual 
Babylon  long  ago.     The  carving  in  wood  and  the  sculpture  in 
stone  and  marble  that  fill  every  chapel,  nay,  almost  every  spot 
of  this  church,  and  the  painting  of  the  windows,  are  really  won- 
derful.    To  complete  its  glory,  there  is  a  delicious  painting  of 
Rubens,  executed  by  himself  for  the  very  purpose  it  has  been 
put  to,  which  is  to  adorn  his  sepulchre,  (for  he  was  buried  here, 
and  a  simple  black  marble  slab,  in  a  chapel  at  the  side  of  the 
choir,  marks  the  spot).     In  this  posthumous  painting,  he  repre- 
sents the  infant  Jesus  on  the  knees  of  his  mother, — the  Madonna 
(a  beautiful  creature,   as  the  child  is  a  perfect  cherub)  being,  it 
seems,  the  likeness  of  his  adored  mistress,  while  the  three  female 
forms  that  are  looking  at  the  sweet  child  are  images,  it  is  said,  of 
his  three  successive  wives.  From  this  church,  in  which  I  wished 


PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE.  227 

for  Charles  Fraser  a  hundred  times,  we  went  to  the  Museum, 
which  contains  many  fine  pictures, — among  which  I  was  parti- 
cularly struck  with  a  copy,  in  miniature,  by  Rubens,  of  his  cele- 
brated "Descent  from  the  Cross.''  It  is  a  charming  picture,  and 
I  felt  (what  I  am  told  many  others  before  me  have  experienced) 
a  strong  impulse  to  steal  it.  The  colouring  is  as  vivid  and  glow- 
ing ns  your  Southern  sky.  Another  painting  of  prodigious  power, 
here,  is  a  famous  chef  doauvre  of  the  same  great  master, — Christ 
between  the  thieves :  but  it  is  not  seen  to  advantage,  and  I  was 
glad  to  hear  the  remark  I  made,  that  it  was  hung  too  low,  had 
been  anticipated  by  a  distinguished  artist.  There  is,  also,  in  this 
collection,  a  "Christ  on  the  cross"  by  Vandyke,  whose  "Cruci- 
fixion", over  the  altar-piece  of  the  cathedral  at  Malines,  I  had 
seen  the  day  before  on  my  way  to  Antwerp.  You  know  Van- 
dyke is  renowned  for  his  portraits,  in  which  department  of  the 
art,  indeed,  he  has  no  rival.  Nothing  can  be  imagined  more 
perfect:  they  live  and  breathe  before  you.  But  I  have  never 
heard  as  much  of  his  excellence  in  historical  painting,  as  I  think 
it  deserves.  He  certainly  wants  the  invention,  boldness,  strength 
and  colouring  of  Rubens,  and  may  be  considered  as,  upon  the 
whole,  an  inferior  genius.  But  then  there  is  so  much  grace  and 
soberness, — such  a  "rapture  of  repose", — and  I  know  not  what 
indescribable  classical  sweetness  about  his  forms,  that  I  yield  a 
very  hesitating,  reluctant  assent  to  the  opinion  of  better  judges, 
who  give  the  palm  to  Rubens.  From  the  Museum  we  went  in- 
to the  study  of  a  very  young  artist  (Wappers)  of  the  same  city, 
who  seems  likely  to  maintain  the  reputation  of  its  school.  I 
saw  some  brilliant  sketches  and  some  admirable  portraits  there: 
among  the  latter,  one  of  King  Leopold  on  horseback. 

We  closed  our  day's  tour  with  the  church  of  the  Dominicans, 
where  there  is  a  picture  (by  Rubens),  "the  Scourging  of  Christ", 
of  the  most  frightful  and  hideous  truth.  Nothing  can  be  more 
horribly  natural  than  the  blood-shot  skin,  the  black  and  blue 
wheals,  the  clotted  gore,  etc.  This  church  is  also  remarkable 
for  one  of  the  most  singular  monuments  of  Romish  worship  that 
are  any  where  to  be  found,  and  very  characteristic  of  this  most 
Catholic  of  all  Catholic  countries.  This  is  a  representation  in 
stone  of  Mount  Calvary, — a  rude,  wild,  rocky  scene,  thronged 
with  the  statues  of  apostles  and  prophets,  while,  at  the  summit 
of  the  crag  before  you,  the  Saviour  hangs  upon  the  cross, — the 
blood,  spouting  out  of  his  side  pierced  with  the  spear,  and  fall- 
ing in  a  parabolic  curve  into  I  forget  what :  1  think  it  is  caught 
by  one  of  the  apostles  in  a  vessel  of  some  sort.  Beneath  the 
rock  of  the  crucifixion,  there  is  a  sort  of  grotto  or  cavern,  to 
which  the  spectator  ascends  by  seven  steps,  worn  by  the  knees 
of  the  penitents  who  crowd  hither  during  passion  week.  There 
is  a  mysterious  silence  about  the  recess,  in  which,  it  may  be,  a 


v>->s  l'KIVATE  CORRE8PONDKNCK', 

few  humble  sinners  are  upon  their  knees,  devoutly  gazing  upon 
something  half  concealed  within  a  sort  of  lattice.  You  look  in, 
and  see  a  corpse  stretched  out  and  shrouded  in  costly  grave- 
clothes  of  white  silk,  tricked  off  with  glitter  and  tinsel.  It  is 
the  tomb  of  Christ,  reposing  after  the  "Descent."  Hard  by,  on 
your  left  hand,  within  another  enclosure,  a  still  more  singular 
and  striking  scene  presents  itself.  This  is  no  less  than  purga- 
tory itself,  with  its  flames  and  torments,  in  the  midst  of  which 
a  crowd  of  sufferers  stretch  forth  their  hands,  and  lift  up  their 
weeping  eyes,  as  if  imploring  the  intercession  of  the  spectator 
on  their  behalf.  It  is  enough  to  make  the  stoutest  Protestant 
pay  for  a  mass  for  the  dead  ;  and,  take  it  altogether,  I  never  saw 
any  thing  so  well  calculated  to  affright  the  imagination  of  a  true 
believer,  as  this  same  church  of  St.  Paul  with  its  appurtenances. 

I  returned  to  Brussels  last  Monday  evening.  The  spring  was 
not  at  all  advanced,  for  the  weather  continued  horribly  cold  and 
capricious.  Within  these  three  days  it  is  entirely  changed, — it 
was  even  hot  yesterday,  — and  the  verdure  of  a  new  foliage  has 
suddenly  covered  the  trees  as  by  enchantment.  I  look  out  while 
I  write  upon  my  beautiful  little  garden,  which  is  already  blos- 
soming all  over,  and  sends  up  into  my  princely  saloon  the  most 
delicious  perfumes.  Beyond  it,  the  double  row  of  trees  in  the 
Boulevards  are  waving  their  tender  green  leaves  in  a  most  sooth- 
ing south-wind,  and,  in  the  back-ground,  the  whole  face  of  the 
earth,  diversified  with  hill  and  dale,  seems  smiling  upon  me  to 
tempt  me  forth  to  my  daily  promenade.  I  shall  obey  the  call, 
for  it  is  three  o'clock,  and  a  severe  rheumatic  pain  has  kept  me 
at  home  a  good  deal  for  the  last  three  days.  I  ventured  out  yes- 
terday, and  experienced  a  charm  in  the  first  warmth  of  summer, 
like  that  exhiliration  which  the  spirits  of  the  just  are  described 
as  enjoying,  as  they  bathe  themselves  in  the  light  of  Elysium. 
At  Prince  Auguste  d'Arenberg's,  where  I  dined,  all  the  company 
were  complaining  of  the  sudden  and  excessive  heat,  but  I  told 
them  it  had  the  same  effect  on  me  as  the  liveliest  sparkling 
champagne.  A  glorious  full  moon  closed  and  crowned  the  day, 
and  never  was  evening  more  soft  and  lovely.  Here's  a  descrip- 
tion for  you, — but,  you  know,  I  am  an  enthusiast  about  fine 
weather.  Nothing  but  female  beauty, — not  music  if  self, — has 
such  an  effect'on  me  ;  and,  in  my  delightful  house,  I  have  every 
advantage  for  enjoying  all  the  charms  of  the  belle  saison. 

May  8.  I  walked  to-day  in  the  Pare,  and  found  it  enchant- 
ing. These  deep  groves  in  the  midst  of  European  capitals,  pre- 
senting the  solitude  and  freshness  of  the  country,  the  singing  of 
multitudes  of  birds,  etc.,  give  them  a  great  advantage  over  our 
cities.     The  weather  is  absolutely  delicious,  and  I  revel  in  it. 

I  mentioned  to  you  that  I  had  made  the  acquaintance  of  the 
Marchioness  of  Hastings  and  her  daughters,  who  are  sweet,  lady- 


PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE. 

like  creatures.  With  Lady  Flora  I  am  quite  in  love.  She  ex- 
actly comes  up  to  my  idea  of  what  a/wife  ought  to  be,— a  tall, 
biue-eyed,  high-born  English  lady, — perfectly  English  with  all 
her  knowledge  of  the  world,  and  having  the  charming  ease  of 
high  rank  without  its  haughtiness. 

I  received,  yesterday,  a  letter  from  mother.     Adieu. 

H.  S.  L. 


Mr.  Legare  to  Henry  Middleton,  Esq. 

Brussels,  25th  March,  1S35. 

My  dear  Harry, — I  arrived  here  in  thirty-three  hours  after  I 
left  Paris,—  this  day  a  week  ago,  at  10  o'clock,  P.  M., — safe  and 
sound.  And  now  all  my  thoughts  are  about  getting  away  again 
as  speedily  as  possible.  In  a  few  days  I  shall  set  about  packing 
up  and  sending  off  my  traps,  as  the  English  call  them,  to  Amer- 
ica, whither  I  shall  follow  them  in  person  somewhere  between 
July  and  October,  according  to  circumstances. 

Lady  Hastings  has  sent  me  tvjo  pressing  invitations  to  go  and 
see  her  at  Loudoun  Castle  in  Scotland,  some  time  before  I  em- 
bark,— the  which,  as  at  present  advised,  I  shall  not  fail  to  do,  for, 
entre  nous,  I  am  charmed  with  at  least  two  of  her  daughters, — one 
of  whom,  Lady  Flora,  (not  Corah,)  is  the  creature  in  the  shape  of 
woman  I  most  admire  of  all  I  ever  saw,  albeit  neither  pretty  nor 
graceful,  but  such  a  head,  such  a  heart,  such  a  soul,  and  such 
English  virtues  unsophisticated,  and  such  a  spirit  of  a  high-born 
ladye, — for.  you  must  know,  they  are  of  the  best  blood  in  Eng- 
land, and  daughters  of  the  Plantagenet  without  dispute.  But, 
although  aristocratic  in  descent,  they  have  more  sense  than  any 
other  women  I  ever  saw,  and  less  of  the  folly  and  meanness  of 
all  the  vanity  of  this  world. 

Meanwhile,  let  us  talk  of  the  present  and  paullopost  future. 
I  think  of  leaving  Brussels,  in  my  own  carriage,  (that  is,  one 
hired  for  the  nonce,)  about  the  8th-12th  of  April,  and  making  or 
taking  a  course  in  Germany  of  about  four  or  five  weeks.  I  shall 
travel  over  a  great  deal  ot  ground,  but  very  rapidly, — I  shall 
go  often  all  night.  My  objects  are  Dresden,  (a  week) ;  Leipsic, 
(some  days) ;  Munich,  (ditto) ;  Berlin,  (ditto) ;  and  perhaps  Vi- 
enna, (a  week) ;  Nuremberg,  (a  day  or  so) ;  Augsburg  and  Frank- 
fort, perhaps  Heidelberg  ;  then  down  the  Rhine  and  back  to 
Brussels,  to  take  my  formal  leave,  on  or  about  the  1st  of  June. 
Have  you  no  wish  to  accompany  me  ?  There  will  be  a  place  for 
you  in  my  carriage,  and  all  you  would  have  to  pay  would  be 
your  own  living  and  one  horse.  If  you  have  a  mind  to  join  me 
let  me  know  immediately,  (for  I  have  no  time  to  lose,)  and  say 
nothing  about  it,  for  your  American  friends  at  Paris  are  great 


;>30  PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE. 

blabs, — (by-the-bye,  I  found  the  story  of  the  dentist  that  called 
on  me,  quite  rtpandue  there,  and  dare  say  it  will  meet  me  at 
Philippi, — that  is,  at  some  election  in  America).  If  you  can't 
join  me,  either  on  account  of  your  health,  which,  I  trust,  will 
no  longer  be  an  impediment  to  your  change  either  of  place  or 
condition,  or  for  any  other  reason,  then  we  must  think  of  the 
summer.  One  can,  it  seems,  go  from  Vienna  to  Constantinople 
by  steam,  and  I  am  thinking  of  making  a  tremendous  tour,  from 
June  to  Sept., — nothing  less  than  to  the  Hellespont,  the  TEgean, 
and  the  Jordan, — thence  to  Italy,  back  to  France  and  England. 
Rouse  up  and  accompany  me. 

Pray  give  my  best  compliments  to  our  sweet  little  friend. 
Don't  neglect  the  Arconati's, — and  I  wish  you  to  overcome  the 

obstacle  between  you   and  .     You  are  giving  way  too 

much  to  the  indolence  that  possesses  us  all  every  where,  but 
especially  when  we  are  at  Paris.  Some  of  my  greatest  regrets 
are  for  what  I  sacrificed  to  the  far  nietite  disposition  at  Paris, 
when  I  was  younger,  and  ought  to  have  seen  and  learnt,  instead 
of  lounging  and  trifling  away  my  time. 

Ever  yours,  H.  S.  L. 


The  same  to  the  same. 

Brussels,  12th  June,  1S36. 
My  dear  Harry, — I  have  just  received  your  letter  of  the  9th, 
which  is  the  second  I  am  indebted  to  you  for, — rather  a  singular 
circumstance  in  my  correspondence,  for  I  am  generally  very  ex- 
act in  answering  letters.  This  time  1  was  waiting  to  be  able  to 
speak  with  some  positiveness  as  to  the  day  of  my  departure 
hence,  which  is  now  at  last  fixed.  I  take  leave  of  the  king  to- 
day at  one  o'clock,  (Sunday,) — stay  here  to-morrow  to  pay  p.  p. 
c.  calls,  and  dine  with  some  of  my  colleagues  and  friends  at  a 
diner  d1  adieu  at  the  Brazilian  minister's,  and  set  off  the  next 
morning  early  for  Antwerp,  where  I  expect  to  embark  at  twelve 
o'clock  on  Wednesday  for  London,  bag  and  baggage.  I  am  ad- 
vised, and  probably  shall  conclude  to  go  by  a  London  instead  of 
a  Liverpool  packet,  but  I  am  not  quite  decided  as  to  the  moment 
of  this  final  embarkation,  or  rather,  I  should  say,  great  embarka- 
tion, for  I  had  forgotten  the  steam-boat  from  New- York  or  Nor- 
folk to  Charleston.  You  shall  hear  from  me  probably  at  London, 
some  time  or  other  before  I  set  out  for  America.  I  have  an  idea 
of  taking  a  trip  to  Edinbro'  by  steam,  and  thence,  travelling  by 
land,  through  Glasgow  and  Liverpool,  etc.,  back  to  London, — 
all  in  a  fortnight,  for  I  have  no  time  to  lose,  and  I  am  anxious 
about  the  state  of  things  on  the  south-western  frontier.  A  new 
era  is  evidently  begun  in  our  politics,  and,  to  judge  from  their 


PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE.  231 

speeches,  our  public  men  do  not  seem  to  be  sufficiently  aware  of 
it.  We  have  at  last  a  neighbor ', — that  is,  a  natural  enemy, — in 
the  empire  of  Mexico  ;  and  we  must  be  prepared  at  all  times  to 
resist  the  secret  machinations  and  open  attacks  of  that  power, — 
but  especially  the  former.  She  happens  to  have  theheel  of  the 
Achilles  (since  you  like  to  be  upon  that  foot  with  me)  turned 
towards  her,  and  may  make  him  writhe,  at  least,  if  nothing  more, 
with  a  bare  bodkin.      Vous  comprenez. 

As  for  waltzing,  I  am  decidedly  of  the  Bishop's  way  of  think- 
ing in  the  matter,  though  not  for  the  reasons  you  mischievously 
attribute  to  him.  All  importations  of  foreign  usages  are  bad, 
for  albeit  a  thing  be  not  impure  in  itself,  yet  it  defileth  him  that 
thinketh  it  impure.  In  short,  our  notions,  and  those  of  the  Eng- 
lish too,  of  pudeur,  modesty,  propriety,  are  all  different  from 
these  foreign  ones  that  are  now  supplanting  them, — and  thank 
God  they  are.  If  you  like  my  sermon,  profit  by  it, — if  not,  re- 
member I  preach  in  self-defence,  or  by  retaliation  upon  you  ;  and 
as  it  happens,  it  is  Sunday  and  church  time.     Amen  ! 

You  do  not  speak  of  your  own  purposes  in  regard  to  travel- 
ling this  summer.  I  saw  all  old  bachelors  denounced  as  unfit 
to  hold  any  office  of  honor  or  trust  under  the  government  of  the 
United  States,  in  a  speech  of  one  Mr.  Wise  (not  Mr.  Wise-one) 
in  Congress,  the  other  day.  It  is  very  provoking  to  have  been 
twice  in  the  future  in  rus,  and  find  oneself,  for  all  that,  getting 
fast  into  the  plus  quam  perfect  past.  Apropos,  I  had  a  houseful  I 
here  the  other  day, — three  nice  girls,  simple,  naive,  pretty,  and 
not  un-clever. 

Our  country-woman,  Lady  Stafford,  (late  Miss  Caton  of  Bal- 
timore,) is  here.  I  like  her  excessively.  Lord  S.  called,  and 
made  me  dine  with  them  immediately  enfamille.  She  has  a 
daughter-in-law,  Bella  Jerningham.  "O  Jeptha,  judge  of  Israel, 
what  a  treasure,"  etc.  I  shall  never  get  her  eyes  out  of  my  heart. 
Yours,  forever,  H.  S.  L. 


Mr.  Legare  to  Thos.  C.  Reynolds,  Esq. 

Washington)  Dec.  4,  1838. 

Dear  Sir, — I  send  you  the  passports,  and  some  letters  of  in- 
troduction, lor  Brussels  and  Bonn.  Try,  by  all  means,  to  become 
acquainted  with  Count  Arrivabene,  who  resides  at  the  former 
place,  (or  did  so  until  very  recently,)  but  is  often  at  the  latter, 
where  some  friends  of  ours,  of  high  rank,  are  or  were  in  the 
habit  of  passing  many  months  every  year.  The  Count  speaks 
English  pretty  well. 

At  Bonn,  pray  ask  Weber  the  bookseller  when  he  will  let  me 


r^o  PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE. 

have  the  4th  vol.  of  Aristotle,  (Bekker's  edition,)  for  which  I  paid 
him  in  advance  the  last  time  I  was  there.  There  is  an  edition 
of  Schiller's  works,  which  was  coming  out  at  Stuttgard  or  Tu- 
bman, (Cotta's,)  when  I  left  Europe.  There  were  nine  volumes 
already  published,  and  three  still  due.  I  want  these  three  to 
complete  my  set.  The  booksellers,  Mayer  and  Summerhausen, 
Rue  de  la  Madeleine,  at  Brussels,  sold  them  to  me  and  promised 
to  send  the  others.  I  wish,  if  it  come  in  your  way,  you  would 
enquire  there  (it  is  the  principal  business  street  in  Brussels)  whe- 
ther they  are  to  be  had,  and  let  me  know  by  letter. 

I  shall  always  be  glad  to  hear  from  and  of  you,  and  now  bid 
you  adieu,  with  my  best  good  wishes  and  the  assurances  of  my 
esteem.     Truly  yours,  H.  S.  L. 

[Enclosed  in  the  above  were  letters  of  introduction  to  Virgil 
Maxcy,  American  Charge  at  Brussels ;  Hon.  Henry  Wheaton, 
American  Minister  at  Berlin ;  M.  le  Chevalier  Auguste  Guil 
1  au me  de  Schlegel,  (Aug.  William  Schlegel), — at  Bonn  ;  and  M. 
le  Comle  Arrivabene,  at  Brussels.  Of  these  I  delivered  those  to 
Mr.  Wheaton  and  to  M.  de  Schlegel,  and  have  no  copies :  the 
latter  (as  the  former)  was  written  in  a  style  which  indicated  fa- 
miliar acquaintance  with  the  person  addressed.  That  to  Mr. 
Maxcy  I  have  mislaid :  but  it  was  short  and  merely  a  letter  of 
introduction.  The  following  is  a  copy  of  the  one  to  Count 
Arrivabene,  an  intimate  friend  of  Mr.  Legare.  He  was  exiled 
from  Lombardy,  his  native  country,  for  some  share  in  the  con- 
spiracy of  Confalonieri,  and  resided,  as  did  also  his  friend,  the 
Marquis  Arconati,  at  Brussels.  He  has  written  some  works, 
which  have  attracted  some  attention,  (there  is  one  mentioned  in 
the  catalogue  of  Mr.  Legare's  library,)  and  has  now,  I  believe, 
returned  to  his  native  land.  I  never  had  it  in  my  power  to  de- 
liver this  letter.  T.  C.  R.] 

Washington,  Xbre  4,  '38. 

Je  vous  ecris  un  mot,  mon  cher  Comte,  pour  vous  accuser  re- 
ception de  votre  aimable  lettre,  et  en  merne  temps  pour  vous 
recommander  deux  jeunes  gens  de  mon  pays  (Charleston,  Caro- 
line du  Sud,)  qui  vont  a  Bonn,  pour  y  faire  leurs  etudes  univer- 
sitaires.  lis  se  nomment  Thomas  Reynolds  et  George  Guerard. 
Veuillez,  je  vous  prie,  vous  interesser  a  ces  pauvres  enfans  qui 
vont  si  loin  de  leur  parens  et  de  leur  patrie,  dans  un  but  aussi 
louable.  He  las  !'  qui  fait  mieux  que  vous  la  desolation  du  pauvre 
exile,  et  combien  il  est  doux  et  touchant  de  trouver  des  amis  la 
ou  on  n'ose  esperer  de  rencontrer  que  des  etrangers. 

Si  nos  amis,  les  Arconatis,  conservent  toujours  leur  habitude 
d'aller  passer  quelques  mois  a  Bonn,  je  vous  serai  bien  recon- 


PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE.  233 

naissant  si  vous  vouliez  les  interesser  aussi  a  ces  jeunes  Ameri- 
cains. 

M.  Reynolds  vous  donnera  de  mes  nouvelles.     J'ai  eu  le  mal- 
heur  ou  bien  le  bonheur  (qui  sait  ?)  de  perdre  mon  election  a 
Charleston  a  cause  de  ma  propre  insouciance,  de  sorte  qu'  apres 
le  4  Mars  prochein  je  ne  serai  plus  membre  du  Congres. 
Tout  et  toujours  a  vous. 

H.  S.  Legare. 


Mr.  Legare  to  Mr  T.  C.  Reynolds,  at  Berlin. 

Charleston,  June  7,  '39. 

Dear  Sir, — I  am  very  glad  to  find,  by  the  letter  with  which 
you  favor  me  from  Berlin,  that  you  are  established  there  to  your 
satisfaction.  You  will,  no  doubt,  by  this  time,  have  become  ac- 
quainted with  most  of  the  distinguished  men  of  the  University, 
especially  with  M.  de  Savigny.  There  is  a  work  of  that  great 
man's,  which  I  sent  out  to  America,  and  expected  to  find  among 
my  books  when  I  came  home,  but  have  not  been  able  to  lay  my 
hands  on.  Its  title  is  Der  Beruf  unserer  Zeit  zur  Gesetzgebung, 
or  something  like  that,  in  which  the  author  developes  the  doc- 
trines of  what  is  called  the  "Historical  School"  of  Germany.  I 
have  sent  for  it  again,  but  am  so  anxious  to  get  it  that  I  have  a 
mind  to  ask  you  to  send  it  to  me.  But  there  is  a  work  that  I 
must  positively  have,  as  soon  as  I  can.  It  is  one  of  the  great 
critic,  M.  Bekker,  on  Demosthenes.  The  title  is  "Demosthenes 
als  Staatsman  und  Redner."  You  will  really  do  me  a  very  great 
favor  by  sending  it  to  me.  I  should  be  glad,  at  the  same  time, 
to  get  the  common  octavo  school  edition  of  Bekker's  Thucydides. 
The  larger  work  I  would  very  much  desire,  but  I  have  already 
two  editions  (expensive  ones)  of  the  same  historian.  You  will 
learn  the  value  of  that  scholar's  labors  in  philology  before  you 
leave  Berlin. 

We  are  getting  on  here  much  as  usual.  The  city  becomes 
more  and  more  pretty,  every  day,  as  the  rebuilding  goes  on.*  As 
to  politics,  I  know  nothing  about  them.  They  have  been  pleased 
to  express  great  regrets  at  what  they  have  done,  but  it  is  too  late. 
My  determination  to  go  to  the  bar,  and  let  public  affairs  alone,  is 
fixed. 

Pray  make  my  compliments  to  your  young  fellow-traveller, 
Mr.  Guerard.  He,  like  myself,  is  a  descendant  of  the  Huguenots, 
and  will  find  many  of  the  same  race  at  Berlin.  M.  de  Savigny, 
I  believe,  is  one  of  them. 

*  This  was  written  one  year  after  the  great  fire  of '38  in  Charleston. 

vol.  i. — 30 


234  PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE. 

I  send  this  under  cover  to  Mr.  Wheaton,  in  whom  you  wilt 
have  found,  no  doubt,  a  Iqnd  and  useful  friend. 

Believe  me,  dear  sir,  etc.,  H.  S.  L. 

P.  S.  I  thank  you  very  much  for  the  political  information 
you  give  in  your  letter.  Pray  write  immediately,  and  fill  your 
pages  with  as  much  of  the  same  matter  as  you  can  gather. 


Mr.  Legare  to  Mr.  T.  C.  Reynolds,  at  Heidelberg. 

♦       Charleston,  23o  April,  1840. 

My  dear  Sir, — I  am  quite  ashamed  of  my  remissness  in  not 
acknowledging,  long  ere  this,  how  much  I  am  indebted  to  you 
for  your  two  favors,  which  I  received  in  the  course  of  the  win- 
ter,— as  well  as  for  the  books.  These  latter  came  to  hand  not 
very  long  ago :  the  Thucydides  was  just  what  I  wanted,  and  it 
happened  to  arrive  when  I  stood  most  in  need  of  it,  for  I  was 
writing  a  paper  for  the  New-York  Review,  in  which  I  had  occa 
sion  to  be  very  critical  in  my  notice  of  the  great  historian.  The 
"Demosthenes"  of  Bekker  is  not  precisely  the  work  I  wanted, 
though  so  much  like  it  in  name  as  easily  to  be  mistaken  for  it, 
and  so  much  on  the  same  subject  as  almost  entirely  to  take  its 
place.  Still,  I  should  be  glad  to  have  the  work — an  earlier  one 
of  the  same  author — I  spoke  of.  It  is  simply  "Demosthenes  als 
Redne?  und  Slaatsmari'1 — als  Schriftsteller  being:  omitted.  This 
last  work  you  sent,  me  contains,  however,  I  dare  say,  very  much 
the  same  things,— of  course,  improved  by  subsequent  research. 

I  dare  say  you  find  Munich  an  agreeable  residence.  Poor 
young  Drayton  Grimke  and  McMillan  King  seemed  to  be  very 
much  pleased  with  the  society  and  other  advantages  of  that  city. 
I  spent  but  a  few  days  there  myself,  but  was  charmed  with  its 
situation  as  well  as  with  the  agricultural  improvements  of  the 
town. 

As  to  your  studies,  if  you  look  forward  to  the  study  of  law, 
you  ought  to  make  yourself  master  of  the  Civilians  while  you 
are  in  Germany.  It  will  be  an  immense  advantage  to  you  when 
you  come  to  study  the  common  law,  for,  after  all,  the  differences 
between  the  codes  of  nations  are  not  very  great,  and  they  reflect 
infinite  light  mutually  upon  one  another.  If  medicine  is  to  be 
your  future  profession,  of  course  you  will  pursue  another  course. 
The  physical  sciences  ought,  in  that  case,  to  engross  your  atten- 
tion,— especially  botany  and  chemistry.  Of  course,  you  will  find 
time  to  cultivate,  as  secondary  objects,  however,  other  branches 
of  knowledge,  but,  at  any  rate,  I  would  have  you  study  political 
and  literary  history,  for  which  your  knowledge  of  the  German 
will  furnish  you  with  immense  facilities.     Don't  neglect  Latin. 


PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE.  235 

It  is  easy  to  acquire  a  thorough  knowledge  of  it,  by  writing  it 
occasionally.  Translate  first  into  English,  and  then  back  into 
Latin,  and  you  will  thus  find  yourself  master  of  all  the  idioms 
and  refinements  of  a  tongue,  which  is  a  key  to  a  world  of  know- 
ledge, from  which  you  will  be  otherwise  wholly  shut  out. 

If  you  see  the  New- York  Review  of  July,  you  will  read  in  it 
the  leading  article  uon  the  Constitutional  History  of  Greece"  and 
"the  Democracy  of  Athens",  which  is  by  me.  I  should  like  to 
know  whether  the  learned  men  of  Germany  think  such  things 
worthy  of  their  notice.  I  published  in  the  10th  No.  of  the  same 
work  an  article  on  Roman  Legislation,  of  which  the  main  ob- 
ject was  to  bring  to  the  notice  of  our  American  public  some  of 
the  learned  works  of  the  actual  schools  of  Germany.  I  made 
two  or  three  slight  mistakes, — but  they  are  inevitable  in  periodi- 
cal literature,  which  is  always  hasty. 

I  have  no  idea  of  entering  the  political  arena  again  ;  though 
my  experience  has  abundantly  convinced  me  how  little  one's 
purposes  and  wishes  have  to  do  with  shaping  one's  destinies. 
My  private  circumstances,  however,  imperatively  demand  my 
attention  to  some  sort  of  business,  and  I  have  none  to  go  to  but 
the  law.     I  have  argued,  this  winter,  some  causes  of  importance. 

Pray  write  to  me, — you  have  so  much  the  advantage  in  the 
intelligence  you  have  to  communicate.  You  know  what  a  som- 
bre monotony  our  life  is :  nothing  (except  troubles)  ever  occurs 
here.  Remember  me,  if  you  please,  to  your  compagnon  de  voy- 
age, and  believe  me,  etc.,  H.  S.  L. 


The  same  to  the  same. 

.    Charleston,  Feb.  6,  1841. 

Dear  Sir, — I  have  been  for  some  time  in  your  debt  for  a  very 
interesting  letter  from  Heidelberg,  which  I  should  have  answered 
before,  had  I  not  been  quite  oppressed  with  occupation  of  one 
sort  or  other.  Your  information  on  the  actual  state  of  things  in 
Germany  seems  to  be  very  correct,  and  is  altogether  acceptable 
to  me.  I  could  ask  for  no  greater  favour  in  the  way  of  corres- 
pondence, than  just  a  repetition  of  your  last. 

Your  note  in  reference  to  a  still  more  protracted  stay  in  Eu- 
rope, was  handed  me  by  ****  some  time  ago.  I  expressed  to  him, 
very  much  at  large,  my  sentiments  upon  the  subject  generally, 
and  as  he  seemed  to  concur  with  me,  he  pressed  me  to  write  to 
you  substantially  the  same  things.  I  told  him  I  would  do  so, 
and  now  fulfil  my  promise.         *         *         *  * 

But,  in  truth,  however  attractive  such  a  stay  might  appear  to 
you,  I  do  not  think  a  more  unfortunate  event  could  happen  to 
you  than  just  to  have  your  wish  gratified.     At  your  age  I  was  in 


236  PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE. 

Europe,  and  had  precisely  the  same  desire.  I  well  remember 
that,  of  all  my  youthful  wishes,  it  was  the  strongest.  I  now 
know — by  much  and,  I  must  add,  painful  experience — that  no- 
thing would  have  been  more  fatal  to  me  in  the  whole  course  of 
my  subsequent  life.  Even  without  such  an  obstacle  to  one's 
preferment  in  this  eminently  practical  and  business-doing  coun- 
try, as  the  having  passed  many  years  abroad,  and  in  the  atmos- 
phere of  courts,  when  just  grown  up,  I  have  found  my  studies 
in  Europe  impede  me  at  every  step  of  my  progress.  They  have 
hung  round  my  neck  like  a  dead  weight,— and  do  so  to  this  very 
day.  Our  people  have  a  fixed  aversion  to  every  thing  that  looks 
like  foreign  education.  They  never  give  credit  to  any  one  for 
being  one  of  them,  who  does  not  take  his  post  in  life  early,  and 
do  and  live  as  they  do.  Nothing  is  more  perilous,  in  America, 
than  to  be  too  long  learning,  and  to  get  the  name  of  bookish. 
Stay  in  Europe  only  long  enough  to  lay  the  ground-work  of 
professional  eminence,  by  pursuing  the  branches  of  knowledge 
most  instrumental  in  advancing  it.  Let  me,  therefore,  advise 
you  to  come  home  and  study  a  profession.  Whatever  you  may 
think  of  these  opinions  now,  I  am  quite  sure  you  will  fully  sub- 
scribe to  them  ten  or  fifteen  years  hence. 

The  book  you  speak  of  (Demosthenes  als  S.  u.  R.)  has  never 
come  to  hand.     There  seems  to  be  a  fatality  attending  it  for  me. 

I  have  only  to  add  that  I  am  very  much  pleased  with  the  evi- 
dences which  your  letters  afford  of  high  and,  what  is  better, 
sound  intelligence,  and  that  I  hope  to  see  you  reap  the  fruits  of 
it  in  future  life. 

Meanwhile,  I  am,  etc.,  H.  S.  L. 


Mr.  Legare  to  his  sister. 

Brussels,  2d  May,  1834. 
My  dear  Mary, — *  *  *  *  We  have  had  a  sad  affair  here, 
which  has  totally  boulverse*  our  society.  T  sent  a  circumstantial 
account  of  it  to  Petigru,  whom  I  requested  to  forward  the  letter 
to  you.  It  was  the  sacking  of  fourteen  or  fifteen  houses,  many 
of  them  of  the  greatest  personages  here,  but  not  well  affected 
towards  the  government,  by  a  banditti  of  apprentices  and  jour- 
neymen, on  a  bright  Sunday  morning,  in  the  midst  of  the  people 
of  Brussels,  and  before  the  eyes  of  the  authorities,  civil  and  mili- 
tary, who  merely  looked  on  as  spectators,— not  for  any  want  of 
inclination  to  interfere,  but  because  the  rickety  revolutionary 
government  really  dare  not  get  into  a  scrape  with  the  mob  which 
created  it.  The  effect,  as  I  said,  upon  our  society,  has  been  very 
bad, — for  not  only  have  some  of  the  first  houses  been  broken 
up,  but  some  English  of  distinction,  who  intended  to  reside  here, 


PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE.  237 

have  been  prevented  from  doing  so  by  the  fear  of  these  popular 
eruptions.  To  make  the  matter  still  worse  for  me,  and  indeed 
all  of  us,  we  sustained  an  irreparable  loss,  a  few  days  afterwards, 
in  the  death  of  the  charming  young  Countess  de  Latour  Mau- 
bourg,  wife  of  the  French  ambassador,  who  died,  at  the  age  of 
nineteen,  in  giving  birth  to  her  first  child.  I  can  give  you  no 
idea  how  much  I  have  felt  this  misfortune.  I  happened  to  see 
her  the  day  before  her  confinement,  blooming  and  cheerful,  but 
rather  alarmed  by  the  above-mentioned  exploits  of  the  banditti  ; 
the  day  before,  but  counting  on  better  days,  and  as  happy  at 
home  as  possible  for  a  woman  to  be,  as  she  constantly  said, — for 
what  could  be  more  brilliant  and  blessed  than  the  situation  of  a 
young  lady,  married  to  a  perfectly  accomplished  gentleman  of 
the  old  school,  who,  to  all  the  elegance  of  that  school  in  France, 
united  the  domestic  habits  of  an  Englishman,  and  loved  his 
wife, — while  her  own  private  fortune,  and  his  station,  as  minister 
plenipotentiary,  ensured  her  all  that  a  woman's  ambition  can  aim 
at  in  society.  Just  see  how  unfortunate  I  am  in  the  loss  of 
friends, — which  I  feel  the  more  sensibly  from  my  isolated  situa- 
tion here.  It  is  so  strange  !  to  have  been  in  Brussels  less  than 
two  years,  and  to  have  already  survived  so  many  on  whom  I 
counted  for  making  my  time  pass  agreeably.  The  Hastings'  are 
still  here,  but  I  fear  they  will  not  continue  long.  They  are  my 
chief  resource,  and  I  feel  an  interest  in  them  which,  though  not 
without  a  touch  of  sadness,  is  very  lively.  I  shall  never  be  able 
to  think  of  them  without  regret, — unavailing  regret. 

I  began,  yesterday,  (for  it  is  quite  an  epoch  in  my  life,)  to  read 
Goethe's  Faust  in  the  original,  and  am  happy  to  find  it  less  dif- 
ficult than  I  was  led  to  expect.  It  is  now  eleven  months  since 
I  first  began  to  learn  German, — from  this  must  be  deducted  two 
months  for  my  visit  to  Paris,  etc.  Owing  to  the  cessation  of  the 
dinners  and  soirees,  in  which  I  was  perpetually  engaged  during 
the  whole  winter,  I  now  have  hardly  any  thing  to  do  but  to 
read, — which,  I  assure  you,  I  do  to  some  purpose.  I  have  been 
prevented  from  taking  the  tour  in  Germany,  which  I  expected 
to  make  this  summer,  and  shall,  therefore,  with  occasional  excur- 
sions in  the  neighborhood,  remain  at  Brussels.  Should  nothing 
happen,  I  shall  devote  all  that  time  to  the  acquiring  the  sort  of 
knowledge  which  most  attracts  me  now, — politics  and  the  his- 
tory of  man,  including  that  of  the  church.  I 
shall  make  some  profit  of  that  time,  with  a  view  to  the  great  end 
of  life, — the  learning  to  be  wise, — not  for  purposes  of  vanity  and 
ostentation,  but  of  happiness  in  myself  and  usefulness  to  others. 
I  wish  I  could  impart  to  you  some  of  the  philosophy  which  is 
beginning,  at  last,  to  reconcile  me  to  the  world,  wearisome  and 
evil  as  it  is.  You  may  be  assured  that  the  best  of  all  moralists 
is  pleasure.     One  learns  temperance  from  being  always  tempted 


238  PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE. 

to  excess, — and  contentment  with  little,  by  experiencing  the 
vanity  of  wealth  and  honors.  Apropos  of  vanity,  etc.,  I  was 
playing  whist  last  night  with  Prince  Louis  de  Rohan,  who  had 
a  law-suit  some  time  ago  with  Louis  Philippe,  about  the  fortune 
of  the  late  Prince  de  Conde,  uncle  of  M.  Rohan.  The  Prince 
de  0.  was  the  last  of  that  illustrious  house,  and  left  a  fortune  of 
60  or  70,000,000  frames,  by  will,  to  one  of  the  sons  of  the  king 
and  a  mistress  of  his  own,  Madame  de  Feucheres.  The  Prince 
Louis  attacked  this  will  and  failed,  for  which,  and  perhaps  other 
reasons,  he  has  to  live  out  of  France.  He  had  on  the  table  a 
snuff-box,  with  three  miniature  portraits  upon  it, — one  of  his 
grandfather  (I  think)  M.  de  Soubise,  with  his  two  aunts,  one  of 
whom  was  the  late  Princess  de  Conde.  The  house  of  Rohan 
is  one  of  the  greatest  in  the  world ;  and  while  I  was  cracking 
jokes  with  him  about  Pere  Philippe,  of  whom  he  speaks  rather 
disrespectfully,  I  could  not  help  thinking  of  the  downfal  of  the 
mighty  ones  of  the  earth.  He  is  a  perfect  specimen  of  the  old 
libertine  grand-seigneur  of  the  vielle  cour.  You  know,  as  Hu- 
guenots we  have  a  right  to  feel  an  especial  interest  in  the  house 
of  Rohan  and  Soubise,  who  were  among  the  prominent  leaders 
of  the  Protestants  in  the  time  of  the  League. 

I  should  have  made  this  letter  longer,  but  while  writing  it  an 
Irish  friend  came  in,  and  talked  away  so  much  of  my  time,  that 
I  have  barely  enough  to  add  my  love  to  you  all,  and  the  assur- 
ance that  I  am  most  faithfully  yours,  H.  S.  L. 


The  same  to  the  same. 

Dover,  21st  June,  1834. 
My  dear  Mary, — I  don't  believe  I  mentioned,  in  any  of  my 
former  letters,  my  intention  of  coming  to  England.  Indeed,  I 
had  entirely  abandoned  the  project  until  two  or  three  weeks 
ago,  when,  living  rather  below  par,  as  the  brokers  have  it,  in 
point  of  health,  and  horribly  ennuyee  at  Brussels,  (which  some 
late  affairs  have  made  intolerably  stupid,)  I  fell  into  temptation. 
Dining  one  day  with  Lady  Westmoreland,  her  niece,  Lady  Pau- 
lett,  suggested  I  had  better  cross  the  channel.  The  former  in- 
sisted upon  it  so  strenuously,  promising  me  letters,  etc.,  that  in 
short,  me  voila.  I  arrived  about  an  hour  ago, — it  being  very, 
very  warm  for  these  climates,  where  there  has  as  yet  been  no 
summer. 

The  next  day,  I  travelled  from  Antwerp  to  Ghent  in  my  own 
carriage,  through  the  very  finest  country  I  ever  saw,  or  any  body 
else,  I  believe,  called  the  Pays  de  Wai's.  Every  acre  of  it  is  in 
the  most  productive  state, — it  is  a  perfect  garden  ;  and  yet,  I  am 
told  that  a  century  ago  it  was  a  wild  waste,  and  that  it  was  its 


PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE.  239 

immense  fertility  altogether  and  cultivation  which  have  turned  it 
into  the  flourishing  garden  I  saw.  I  left  my  carriage,  which  I 
sent  back  to  Brussels,  and  taking  a  footman  with  me,  got  into  a 
diligence,  and  arrived  at  Lille,  in  France,  at  5  o'clock  in  the 
evening,  after  a  very  pleasant  day's  journey,  which  was  a  most 
agreeable  disappointment, — for  when  I  first  got  into  that  "infer- 
nal machine",  which  the  French  call  a  diligence,  one  would  sup- 
pose because  it  goes  rapidly,  (generally  it  goes  very  slowly,)  I  was 
absolutely  nervous,  and  had  a  mind  to  get  out  again  at  once  and 
go  down  to  Ostend,  and  embark  in  the  steam  packet-boat  there. 
However,  I  persevered, — braced  up  my  resolution,  and,  as  I  said 
just  now,  became  so  completely  reconciled  to  my  new  situation, 
that,  in  spite  of  my  excessive  self-indulgence  and  love  of  ease,  I 
have  seldom  passed  eight  hours  more  agreeably  in  any  kind  of 
carriage.  Leaving  Lille  at  5  in  the  morning,  and  passing  through 
Dunkirk,  etc.,  to  Calais,  at  8  in  the  evening.  This  morning  set 
out  in  a  little  steam-packet,  and  reached  this  after  four  hours' 
passage.  I  shall  proceed  to  London  to-night.  I  bring  letters 
from  Lady  Westmoreland  to  her  daughter-in-law,  the  famous 
Lady  patroness  of  Almacks,  and  head  of  all  fashion,  whose  ac- 
quaintance I  am  really  curious  to  make, — Lady  Jersey, — and  to 
Lady  Wm.  Russell  and  Lord  Bristol  ;  and,  from  Sir  R.  Adair, 
to  Lords  Gray,  Lansdowne,  Holland  and  Brougham, — besides 
others.  My  stay  in  England  will  necessarily  be  very  short, — 
not  above  ten  days  or  so, — and  I  shall,  perhaps,  on  that  account, 
not  profit  as  much  by  these  letters  as  I  otherwise  should ;  but  I 
still  stand  a  good  chance  of  seeing  the  haute-noblesse  of  Eng- 
land, in  London  life,  to  some  advantage, — and  it  is  now  almost 
the  only  thing  about  which  I  have  any  curiosity,  for  I  am  un- 
happily blase  upon  most  of  the  subjects  which  once  interested 
me  ******* 

C's.  conversation  with  me,  the  first  day  I  saw  him,  gave  me  a 
strong  fit  of  home-sickness,  and  kept  me  awake  all  night.  *  * 
But  the  truth  is,  I  never  suffered  more  from  ennuyee,  my  inveter- 
ate enemy,  than  in  the  midst  of  all  this  supposed  splendor  and 
pleasure.  I  am  just  in  that  state  of  mind  in  which  Goethe's 
Faust  made  his  compact  with  the  devil. 

London,  2Sth  June. 
Arriving  here  at  about  7  o'clock  last  Sunday,  I  travelled  up 
from  the  neighborhood  of  the  post-office,  where  I  was  set  down, 
to  the  Clarendon  Hotel,  in  new  Bond-street,  (the  most  fashion- 
able house  in  London).  Sunday  is  religiously  kept  in  England  : 
it  was  to  me  a  dull  and  quiet  one.  On  Monday,  I  sent  out  my 
letters.  On  Tuesday,  I  got  a  note  from  Lady  Hastings,  who  is 
now  here  with  her  charming  family,  telling  me  she  had  just 
heard  of  my  arrival,  and  enclosing  me  a  card  for  a  ball  at  the 


240  PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE. 

Countess  of  Wemys',  where  I  should  meet  much  good  company, 
and,  especially,  the  haute-noblesse  of  Scotland.  I  went  at  half- 
past  11  o'clock,  and  found  the  rooms  still  empty,  and  it  was  not 
until  near  half-past  12  that  dancing  began  in  good  earnest.  I 
was  exceedingly  struck  with  the  size  of  the  women,  which  ap- 
peared to  me  rather  gigantic,  and  with  their  bad  waltzing.  But, 
as  the  great  majority  present  were  Caledonians,  they  soon  struck 
up  reels,  and  danced  them  with  a  spirit  and  fervor  that  charmed 
me.  I  never  saw  more  national  enthusiasm  at  any  meeting  of 
these  "Northern  folk",  famous  as  they  are  for  it.  Lady  Hastings 
called  my  attention  to  the  dancing  of  Lord  Douglas,  which  is 
particularly  renowned  in  its  way ;  and  to  a  couple  near  us,  Lady 
L.  and  a  singularly  exhilerated  and  springy  little  gentleman,  who 
snapped  his  fingers  as  he  capered  about,  as  if  they  were  castanets. 
This  personage,  she  told  me,  was  seventy-three  years  of  age,  (he 
looked  fifty).  He  had  been  celebrated  for  minuets  de  la  cour  in 
the  reign  of  good  King  George  III.  I  went  home  very  much 
pleased  with  this  truly  national  and  hearty  exhibition  in  the 
grande  monde,  and,  on  arriving  there,  found  a  note  from  Lady 
Jersey,  enclosing  a  card  for  Almacks  next  day,  and  requesting 
me  to  call  on  her  the  day  after  that.  Would  you  believe  it !  I 
did  not  go  to  Almacks, — great  as  the  privilege  of  admission  there 
is  thought,  and  singularly  precious,  as  granted  in  so  special  a 
manner  by  the  mighty  Lady  Patroness  herself.  But  I  was  fa- 
tigued, sleepy  and  unwell,  and,  besides,  really  have  too  little 
curiosity  about  such  things  now,  to  put  myself  at  all  out  of  the 
way  to  enjoy  them.  The  next  day  I  was  almost  ashamed  to 
confess  my  delinquency  to  her  imperial  ladyship,  whom  I  saw, 
according  to  her  appointment,  at  3  o'clock.  Her  house  struck 
me  as  very  fine,  accustomed  as  I  am  to  palaces  ;  but  I  was  more 
engrossed  with  her  than  with  her  entourage,  a  part  of  which,  I 
ought  not  to  forget  to  mention,  was  the  Earl  of  Roslyn.  She 
asked  me  whom  and  what  1  was  desirous  of  seeing,  and  was 
liberal  in  her  offers  of  service,  etc.  I  rose  to  go  away, — she  rose 
also,  and  said  "Here's  a  fine  picture",  leading  the  way  into  an 
adjoining  room.  As  she  passed,  she  stopped  to  say  something 
to  me,  and  fixed  her  somewhat  hawkish  eyes  on  mine  with  a 
gaze  fixed  and  intense  :  she  looked,  or  rather  glanced,  then,  into 
a  mirror  at  her  side,  and  then  went  on.  1  had  thus  a  fair  oppor- 
tunity of  surveying  the  whole  person  of  this  great  dictator  of 
the  fashionable  world  of  London  ;  and  think  now  I  understand, 
what  once  appeared  to  me  mysterious  enough,  the  secret  and  the 
character  of  her  domination  over  men's  and  women's  minds. 
But,  as  this  is  "deep  contemplation",  as  Jaques  says,  I  will  keep 
my  philosophy  for  another  occasion. 

I  dine,  to-day,  with  Lord  Lansdowne, — to-morrow,  with  Lord 
Palmerston, — and,  on  Monday,  with  Sir  Alex.  Johnstone,  when 


PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE.  241 

I  hope  to  meet  the  Hastings'.  Meanwhile,  a  great  musical  festi- 
val, repeated  at  intervals  of  two  or  three  days,  at  Westminster 
Abbey, — the  jubilee  of  the  fiftieth  anniversary  of  the  one  which 
you  may  remember  old  — — 's.  giving  an  account  of  at  our  table, 

once,  when  he  discomfited  poor with  his  sentiment.     1 

shall  try  to  get  a  ticket  for  the  last,  when  the  "Messiah"  is  to  be 
performed.     Addio, — ever  faithful,  H.  S.  L. 


The  same  to  the  same. 

Brussels,  May  17,  1835. 

I  received,  my  dear  Mary,  three  days  ago,  your  letter  of  10th 
April,  in  which  you  give  me  a  commission  to  buy  you  some 
paints,  etc.  I  shall  have  great  pleasure  in  doing  so  one  of  these 
days,  but  I  really  cannot  say  when  precisely.  If  I  return  in 
October,  I  will  send  them  with  the  boxes  that  will  take  out  my 
own  things.  I  am  very  glad  to  find  you  have  become  such  an 
enthusiast  in  painting,  though  for  heaven's  sake  take  care  of 
your  eyes.  From  indulging  too  much  in  a  similar  passion  for 
books,  my  own  give  me  sometimes  rather  alarming  hints.  But, 
in  spite  of  such  drawbacks,  great  and  small,  the  love  of  art  and 
science, — that  is  to  say,  the  love  of  truth  and  beauty, — when  it 
becomes  an  engrossing,  habitual,  passionate  feeling,  is  worth 
more  than  all  the  gifts  of  fortune.  There  is  one  of  its  good 
effects  which  I  have  never  seen  pointed  out,  though  it  is  impos- 
sible to  overrate  its  importance.  It  elevates  one's  sense  of  his 
own  dignity,  and,  at  the  same  time,  makes  you  feel  that  it  is  a 
dignity  which  the  world  can  neither  give  nor  take  away.  Thus 
it  mitigates,  if  it  does  not  entirely  cure,  that  worst  of  all  the 
diseases  of  our  fallen  nature,  (I  know  that  forbidden  tree  is  called 
the  tree  of  knowledge,) — that,  indeed,  by  which  man  fell  as  an- 
gels did  before  us, — a  craving,  restless,  self-tormenting  ambition. 
This  seems  paradoxical,  and  yet  it  is  strictly  true, — for  you  may 
set  it  down  for  a  universal  truth,  that  the  greatest  lover  of  art, 
like  true  lovers  of  your  own  dear  sex,  ask  no  dowry  with  their 
mistresses  but  their  own  complete  perfections ;  and  just  by  so 
much  as  their  passion  is  alloyed  by  any  worldly  motive,  by  just 
so  much  their  power  of  expressing  it  is  diminished,  and  affecta- 
tion and  artifice  take  the  place,  in  what  they  do,  of  all-eloquent 
nature. 

I  am  happy  to  learn  you  have  received  the  music.  I  do  not 
remember  all  the  pieces  I  sent, — II  Flauto  Magico,  Don  Giovan- 
ni, Otello,  the  Muette, — but  what  are  the  others  ?  Don  Giovanni 
is  the  admitted  master-piece  of  your  favorite  Mozart.  The  Mu- 
ette is  the  chef  (Tceuvre  of  Auber,  the  French  composer ;  and,  as 
vol.  i. — 31 


242  PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE. 

French  music  is  a  most  admirable  thing,  an  opera  I  never  tire  of 
in  the  performance.  It  has,  in  Brussels,  an  historical  interest, 
which  I  must  let  you  share  in.  In  the  second  act  two  very  ani- 
mated and  popular  airs  occur, — "Amis  la  matinee  est  belle,"  etc., 
and  "Amour  sacre  de  la  patrie,"  etc.  It  was  after  the  second  of 
these  songs  that  the  young  men  of  this  city  rushed  out  of  the 
theatre,  in  1S30,  to  begin  their  revolutionary  insurrection.  This 
event  has  since  been  associated  with  the  song,  and  made  it  a 
sort  of  national  air,  like  those  which  Athenian  patriots  sang  in 
honor  of  llarmodius  and  Aristogeiton,  their  deliverers  from  the 
tyranny  of  the  Pisistratides.  My  love  for  music  always  has 
been  intense,  so  that  I  count  upon  passing  many  pleasant  hours 
with  you,  as  you  revive  my  old  recollections  by  playing  the 
master-pieces  I  have  sent  you, — to  which  I  shall  add  many  more. 

Mr.  Livingston,  as  you  have  by  this  time  heard,  left  Paris  in 
high  dudgeon,  his  wife  and  daughter  with  him,  leaving  his  son- 
in-law,  Mr.  13.,  Charge  d' Affaires.  His  stay  is  to  be  only  until 
the  Chamber  of  Peers  confirm  (as  they  very  probably  will  in  a 
few  days)  the  vote  of  the  Chamber  of  Deputies,  appropriating 
the  money  to  pay  us,  but  requiring  that  something  they  have 
taken  offence  at  be  first  explained.  I  consider  this  as  all  flum- 
mery, just  to  save  appearances  and  soothe  the  deeply  mortified 
pride,  or  perhaps  vanity,  of  "the  grande  nation"  But  Mr.  L. 
chose  to  view  the  matter  in  a  different  light.  They  have  been, 
for  some  time  past,  I  hear,  very  much  dissatisfied  with  their  po- 
sition at  Paris,  and  the  premature  publication  of  Mr.  L's.  dis- 
patches, according  to  our  absurd  American  plan,  made  that 
position  at  length  quite  unenviable.     *  The 

consequences,  I  fear,  will  be  a  complete  rupture  between  the 
countries.  *    an  influence,  which,  I  am  very 

sure,  will  be  exerted  to  the  utmost  to  bring  about  this  issue. 
Besides  that,  I  should  judge,  the  tone  of  the  newspapers,  espe- 
cially on  the  side  of  the  majority,  hold  a  language  inconsistent 
with  peaceful  purposes  and  feelings.  It  makes  my  own  move- 
ments necessarily  more  doubtful,  for  it  was  immediately  on  re- 
ceiving the  news  of  the  vote  of  the  money  in  the  Chamber  of 
Deputies,  that  I  asked  leave  to  return  home,  assigning  that  vote 
as  a  reason  for  supposing  there  would  be  nothing  particularly 
important  for  me  to  do  in  Europe  henceforth,  and  requesting  to 
be  allowed  to  go  home  to  mind  my  own  business. 

We  are  a  nation  of  systematic  self-flatterers,  and  no  man,  who 
does  not  roar  you  lustily  in  the  chorus  of  adulation,  can  pass 
for  a  good  patriot.  Apropos  of  roaring, — if  Mr.  L.,  in  his  pub- 
lished despatches,  had  "augmented  his  voice",  as says, 

the  whole  thing  would  have  gone  off  smoothly,  and  Louis  Phil- 
ippe would  have  said,  "Let  him  roar  again."   But,  begging  your 


PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE. 


243 


pardon  for  passing  so  rapidly  from  Mozart  to  Bottom  and  his 
bellowing,  (those  blackguards  of  Shakspeare  are  so  taking,  one 
never  loses  sight  of  them).  *  * 

We  call  it  economy  to  send  men  abroad  in  places  which  they 
cannot  fill  as  they  ought,  without  ruining  their  families,  and 
which  they  abandon  as  soon  as  they  decently  can,  leaving  all 
their  business  unfinished,  to  be  done  by  some  successor,  as  inex- 
perienced, as  ready,  and  as  much  in  a  hurry  to  get  home  as  his 
predecessor.  However,  Jonathan's  men,  I  find,  are  beginning  to 
pay  him  off  in  his  own  coin. 

While  I  write  this  a  flash  of  lightning,  accompanied  with  quite 
a  respectable  clap  of  thunder,  reminds  me  it  is  spring,  which  I 
might  have  forgotten  from  my  chilliness.  The  truth  is  there  is 
no  spring  in  Europe  out  of  Italy  and  Greece.  I  hear  it  has  been 
horribly  cold,  bad  weather  for  some  weeks  past,  except  a  few 
days. 

17th  May.  Fine  weather.  Sore  throat  gone.  I  leave  Brus- 
sels to-morrow  or  the  day  after  for  Cologne  and  Bonn  ;  perhaps 
I  shall  go  up  the  Rhine  as  far  as  Heidelberg. 

Ever  affectionately,  H.  S.  L. 


The  same  to  the  same. 

Aix-la-Chapelle,  Aug.  24, 1S35. 

My  dear  Mary, — Upon  my  arrival  here  yesterday,  and  re- 
turning from  a  week's  excursion  on  the  Rhine,  your  letter"  of 
the  7th  July  was  handed  me,  and  afforded  me  very  sincere  plea- 
sure. Your  extract  from  the  Baltimore  paper,  or  something  to 
the  same  effect,  I  had  seen  before  in  the  National  Intelligencer, 
very  much  to  my  surprise,  and,  I  had  almost  said,  mortification, 
knowing,  as  I  do,  the  source  it  comes  from,  (a  detestable  caitiff 

at ) :  so  far  am  I  from  having  my  vanity  tickled  by  it. 

Yet,  I  confess  I  was  glad  to  see  the  paragraph  in  the ,  and 

for  this  singular  reason  :  one  of  the  most  savage  attacks  ever 
made  on  me,  and  the  whole  Southern  Review,  appeared  in  that 
very  paper,  and,  I  dare  say,  written  by  the  same  person,  in  con- 
sequence of  some  remarks  of  mine  on  * 
How  strange  a  creature  is  man,  and  how  utterly  good  for  no- 
thing his  praise  or  his  blame. 

The  idea  of  reviving  the  Southern  Review  seems  to  me  per- 
fectly visionary.  I  would  not  do  again  what  I  did  for  it  before 
for  any  compensation.  It  has  dimmed  my  eyes  and  whitened 
my  hair  (at  least,  helped  to  do  so)  before  my  time,  and  I  am  no 
longer  capable  of  that  sort  of  excitement, — besides  various  other 
reasons. 

Aug.  30.    I  add  these  lines  just  for  the  sake  of  mentioning 


244  PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE. 

that  it  was  this  day,  sixteen  years  ago,  that  I  first  visited  this 
old  city,  where  I  am  returned  from  two  hours  spent  in  the  ca- 
thedral, listening — as  I  stood  upon  the  tomb  of  Charlemagne,  a 
plain  slab,  inscribed  simply  "Carolo  Magno" — to  some  very  fine 
music. 

I  have  recovered  all  my  good  looks  again,  but,  unfortunate 
man  that  I  am,  woke  this  morning  with  another  cold  and  in- 
flammation of  the  chest. — a  thing  I  am  prodigiously  liable  to. 
I  wish  for  the  complete  re-establishment  of  my  health,  because 
I  humbly  trust  I  am  destined  to  be  useful  to  man  the  rest  of  my 
life.         God  bless  you  all.  H.  S.L. 


The  same  to  the  same. 

Brussels,  Dec.  10,  1835. 

My  dear  Mary, — I  wrote  you  a  letter  from  Paris,  since  which 
time  I  have  received  one  from  you,  informing  me  of  the  round- 
about course  one  of  mine  of  last  June  took. 

I  received  a  letter  from  Judge  De  S.,  on  the  subject  of  the 
Southern  Review,  and  have  written  him  an  answer,  which  he 
will  receive  by  the  same  packet  with  this.  I  have  declined  the 
proposal,  for,  as  you  say,  my  tastes  and  habits  are  different. 

The  king  and  queen  have  been  passing  six  weeks  at  Paris.  I 
have  just  returned  from  Court,  where  we  had  a  grand  diplomatic 
dinner.  I  had  a  long  conversation  with  her  dear  little  majesty 
after  dinner,  about  the  prospect  of  a  war  between  France  and 
the  United  States,  which  we  both,  of  course,  deprecated  very 
much.  Things  look  very  squally  at  present,  and  some  people 
think  the  French  want  to  have  a  fight  with  us.  This  may  be 
the  fact  as  to  some  of  their  politicians,  but  I  am  sure  the  king  is 
decidedly  opposed  to  a  rupture,  and,  perhaps,  will  do  all  he  can 
to  prevent  one.  In  the  meantime,  we  are  looking  for  the  Presi- 
dent's message  with  no  little  solicitude.  I  rather  think  there  will 
be  no  war,  and  yet  I  prefer  any  sacrifice  to  that  of  the  national 
honor  or  even  pride. 

I  am  now  lodging  in  a  hotel,  where  I  have  a  spacious  and 
comfortable  apartment  of  four  rooms,  with  a  servant's  bed-room, 
and  here  I  shall  probably  pass  the  winter.  The  carnival  is  very 
short  this  year,  and  absolutely  nothing  goes  on  after  Shrove 
Tuesday.  H.S.L. 


Mr.  Legare  to  his  Sisters. 

Bruxelles,  March  24,  1833. 
My  dear  Sisters, — I  have  adopted  the  plan  of  writing  to  you 
both  at  the  same  time,  that  there  may  be  no  heart-breaking  jea- 


PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE.  245 

lousy  between  you  about  so  important  a  matter  as  my  attentions. 

I  told  mama  I  should  give  you  a  more  particular  account  of 
what  passed  here  during  the  French  queen's  visit  to  Brussels, 
which  took  place  about  two  weeks  ago,  and  continued  until  last 
Monday  afternoon,  when  she  left  this  city  and  arrived  in  Paris 
in  less  than  twenty-four  hours,  having  travelled  all  night.  I 
have  repeatedly  mentioned  how  much  I  admire  that  great  lady, 
with  whom  I  had  the  honor  of  dining  at  the  pretty  chateau  of 
Neuilly,  near  Paris,  when  I  was  there  last  summer.  What  I  saw 
of  her,  during  her  stay  here,  confirmed  all  those  favorable  impres- 
sions. Her  grace,  dignity  and  affability,  (condescension,  it  may 
be,  but  there  is  no  appearance  of  that,)  are  really  irresistible,  and 
equalled  only  by  her  exemplary  virtues  as  a  wife  and  a  mother, — 
virtues  which  happen  to  shine  forth  the  more  brilliantly  just  at 
this  moment,  in  contrast  with  the  public  infamy  of  the  Duchess 
of  Berry. 

The  queen  arrived  here,  accompanied  by  her  second  daughter, 
the  Princess  Marie,  and  two  ladies  of  honour,  under  the  protec- 
tion (as  we  should  say,  of  a  private  person)  of  her  son  and  heir 
apparent,  the  Duke  of  Orleans, — a  well-looking  young  man  of 
some  two-and-twenty  years  or  thereabouts.  The  day  after  their 
arrival  was  passed  in  the  family  circle,  but,  on  Sunday,  (the  next 
day,)  there  was  a  grand  diplomatic  dinner  of  fifty  coyers  at 
Court,  at  which  I  had  the  honor  of  assisting,  with  the  British 
ambassador,  (Sir  Robert  Adair,)  the  French,  (the  Count  de  La- 
tour  Maubourg,)  and  their  Secretaries  of  Legation,  all  the  Min- 
isters of  State,  the  Presidents  of  the  Senate  and  House  of  Repre- 
sentatives, some  Generals,  the  Ladies  of  Honor  of  the  two 
Queens,  Aides-de-Camp,  etc.,  etc.;  and  last,  but  by  no  means 
least,  the  Duke  and  Duchess  d'Arenberg,  who  are  decidedly  at 
the  head  of  society  here,  and,  indeed,  are  of  an  almost  royal 
house.  As  soon  as  all  the  guests  were  assembled  in  the  salle  de 
reception,  and  after  the  Duchess  of  Arenberg,  who  had  been  pre- 
sented in  private  audience  in  another  saloon,  returned,  the  royal 
party  made  its  appearance, — the  Queen  of  France  leaning  upon 
the  arm  of  her  son-in-law,  King  Leopold  ;  the  Q,ueen  of  the 
Belgians  on  that  of  her  brother,  the  Duke  of  Orleans  ;  and  the 
Princess  Marie  accompanied  by  her  Lady  of  Honor.  The  rest 
of  the  party  only  saluted  at  entering,  and  stopped  near  the  door, 
but  the  Queen  of  the  French  went  round  the  whole  circle,  be- 
ginning, of  course,  with  our  noble  selves,  the  representatives  of 
foreign  nations,  who,  you  know,  are  always  at  the  head  of  every 
ceremony,  at  least.  The  British  ambassador  was  first  presented. 
She  recognized  in  him  an  old  acquaintance,  (heaven  knows  how 
far  back,)  and  reminded  him  of  the  occasions  on  which  they 
met.  Her  own  ambassador,  who  returned  from  Paris  with  her, 
she  soon  dispatched.     Then  came  my  turn.     She  had  seen  me 


246  PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE. 

not  many  months  ago, — hoped  I  liked  my  situation, — asked  after 
Gen.  Wool,  (an  officer  sent  out  on  some  special  errand  by  our 
government  last  summer,  who  had  been  well  received  by  the 
Court  of  France,  and  had  afterwards  visited  Brussels  with  me 
when  I  first  came  here,)  and  so  forth.  In  short,  she  addressed 
something  appropriate  to  every  individual  in  the  circle,  except 
the  officers  of  the  king's  household,  and  all  with  that  winning, 
native  grace  so  peculiar  to  a  high-born  and  perfectly  well-bred 
French- woman, — (by-the-bye,  she  is  an  Italian,  aunt  of  the 
Queen  of  Spain,  who  has  lately  been  doing  such  fine  things,  and 
of  the  Duchess  of  Berry,  who  has  been  doing  such  naughty 
ones).  The  Grand-Marshal  then  announced  to  their  Majesties 
that  dinner  was  served.  They  led  the  way  into  the  banqueting 
hall  (in  the  grand  apartments,  as  they  are  called)  as  they  had 
come  into  the  salle  de  reception,  except  that,  this  time,  the  Eng- 
lish  ambassador,  as  head  of  the  diplomatic  body,  (by  seniority,) 
gave  his  arm  to  the  Princess  Mary.  As  I  had  the  third  choice, 
I  took  the  prettiest  of  our  queen's'  ladies,  and,  I  think,  the  very 
prettiest  woman  in  all  Belgium,  although  she  has  three  children 
married, — one  a  daughter,  who  looks  almost  as  old  as  herself.  I 
was  petrified  with  surprise  when  I  found  out  the  age  of  my  fa- 
vorite, whom  I  did  not  suspect  of  so  many  years  almost  by  half. 
But  that  discovery  I  had  made  long  before  this  meeting,  and  I 
chose  her  with  my  eyes  open  and  very  deliberately,  for  Sir  G. 
Hamilton  and  M.  de  Tallenay,  secretaries  of  legation,  were  ar- 
ranging it  between  them  whom  they  should  choose  out  of  the 
circle, — an  ugly  or  stupid  woman  by  one,  at  one  of  these  inter- 
minable French  dinners,  is  such  a  bore, — when  I  told  them  they 
need  not  think  of  her,  for  I  had  designs  in  that  quarter  myself. 
The  lady  in  question  is  the  Baronne  d'Hoogvorst.  She  was 
dressed  that  day  in  very  becoming  style,  and  looked  like  a  bloom- 
ing wife  of  thirty, — in  Europe,  you  know,  that  is  not  old. 

At  table,  the  fashion  in  Europe  is  not  like  yours,  for  the  mas- 
ter of  the  house  to  sit  at  one  end,  and  the  mistress  at  the  other. 
The  place  of  honor  is  at  the  side  and  at  the  middle  of  the  board. 
When  I  dined  at  Neuilly  the  queen  sat  on  one  side,  and  the  king 
opposite  to  her  on  the  other,  but  Leopold  and  Louise  are  inse- 
parable, at  least  at  dinner, — and,  judging  from  their  most  amiable 
characters  and  affectionate  dispositions,  I  should  suppose  every 
where  else.  The  Grand  Marshal  of  the  palace,  here,  always 
takes  his  place  opposite  to  their  Majesties.  And  so  it  was  on 
the  occasion  in  question.  On  the  right  of  the  King  sat  the 
Queen  of  the  French,  on  her  right  the  Queen  of  the  Belgians, 
next  to  her  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  next  the  Duchess  d'Arenberg, 
next  Count  de  Latour  Maubourg,  etc.,  etc.  On  the  left  of  the 
King  was  the  Princess  Marie,  next  the  English  ambassador,  etc. 
The  Grand  Marshal  had  on  his  right  the  Lady  of  Honor  handed 


PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE.  247 

in  by  the  Duke  d'Arenberg,  on  whose  right  sat  the  Duke  him- 
self; on  the  left  was  Madame  d'Hoogvorst,  and  next  to  her  your 
humble  servant, — so  that  I  sat  immediately  opposite  the  Q,ueen 
of  the  Belgians,  whose  sweet,  modest  face  I  am  never  tired  of 
looking  upon.  The  dinner  was  served  with  the  highest  magni- 
ficence of  the  Court, — the  crowd  of  servants  in  waiting  being 
decked  out  in  their  most  showy  liveries,  (scarlet  and  gold  for 
some,  while  others  wore  a  more  modest  uniform,  with  swords  at 
their  sides,) — and  the  table  itself  covered  with  gold  and  silver, 
and,  at  the  dessert,  with  Sevres  china. — This  last,  which  is  the 
most  beautiful  painted  china,  manufactured  near  Paris,  at  a  cost 
of  300  francs  (sixty  dollars)  a  plate,  was  a  bridal  present  to  the 
queen  from  her  father.  A  grand  band  of  music  played  the  most 
fashionable  and  admired  pieces  of  the  great  German  and  Italian 
masters,  at  intervals  during  the  dinner, — which,  in  all  other 
respects,  went  off  just  as  Court  dinners  always  do,  with  the 
gravest  decorum, — a  conversation  confined  to  two, — with  no  va- 
riety except  an  occasional  change  from  right  to  left,  when  one 
or  the  other  of  your  neighbors,  as  it  happens,  is  run  out  of  small 
talk,  and  carried  on,  of  course,  in  a  sort  of  whisper.  Certainly, 
however,  it  must  be  confessed  that  a  vast  table,  covered  with  so 
much  magnificence,  and  surrounded  by  ladies  and  gentlemen, — 
the  former  sparkling  with  diamonds,  the  latter  all  in  Court  em- 
broidery,— presents  a  very  brilliant  coup  oVoeil.  I  was  never 
before  so  much  struck  with  the  effect  of  precious  stones  in  a 
lady's  toilette,  as  with  the  richly-coloured  beams  of  light  that 
glittered  about  the  neck  and  head  of  the  Duchess  d'Arenberg, — 
a  very  fine  woman,  about  thirty-five,  who  was  arrayed  in  more 
than  the  glory  of  Solomon.  The  worst  of  a  dinner  at  Court  is 
that,  after  having  got  through  the  tedious  formalities  of  the  re- 
ception and  the  execution,  (they  endure  a  couple  of  hours  or  so,) 
the  whole  company  is  marched  back  into  the  salle  de  reception, 
where  coffee  is  served  with  liqueurs,  and  there  are  sometimes 
kept  standing  (for  none  but  the  ladies,  who  take  their  places  at 
the  queen's  round  table  after  dinner,  in  the  middle  of  the  room, 
are  allowed  to  sit)  sometimes  for  another  hour,  or  hour  and  a 
half.  For  me,  whose  habit  is  and  always  has  been,  if  possible, 
to  stretch  myself  off  at  full  length  upon  a  sofa,  or,  at  least,  re- 
cline quite  at  my  ease  after  dinner,  this  part  of  my  diplomatic 
duties — aggravated,  as  it  is,  by  being  buttoned  up  close  in  a 
uniform  coat  made  last  summer,  when  I  was  by  no  means  in 
such  good  case  as  I  am  now — is  quite  a  serious  task. 

But  I  never  suffered  so  much  from  it,  as  at  a  concert  given  at 
Court  two  days  after  the  dinner  I  speak  of.  All  guests,  invited 
to  a  palace,  but  especially  the  members  of  the  diplomatic  corps, 
are  expected  to  be  very  punctual, — for,  as  Louis  XVIII.  is  said 
to  have  remarked,  "Punctuality  is  the  politeness  of  kings."    We 


248  PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE. 

were  invited,  then,  to  the  said  concert,  at  three-quarters  past  7 
o'clock,  and  what  with  the  presentations,  the  slow  progress  of 
the  processions  through  a  suite  of  half-a-dozen  rooms,  and  the 
musical  performance  itself,  I  was  standing/owr  mortal  hours. 
To  be  sure,  1  did  not  suffer  alone,  there  being  five  or  six  hun- 
dred people  present.  The  ladies  had  seats  on  two  rows  of  benches 
at  the  two  sides  of  a  vast  hall,  leaving  a  space  between  for  the 
circulation  of  the  gentlemen  invited,  the  waiters  with  refresh- 
ments, in  short,  every  thing  but  air, — for  altho'  it  was  freezing 
and  snowing  out  of  doors,  our  artificial  atmosphere  was  so  disa- 
greeably heated  that  our  little  queen,  in  her  delicate  situation, 
could  not  bear  it,  and  had  to  leave  us  in  the  midst  of  our  excru- 
ciating delight  at  the  various  performance.  The  rest  of  the 
party  exhibited  a  very  tender  solicitude  at  this  untoward  event, 
and  went  out  with  her,  but  soon  after  they  all  returned,  except 
the  king,  and  even  he  after  a  delay  of  some  time  longer.  I  own 
I  was  not  overpowered  by  the  music,  though,  to  be  sure,  I  had 
heard  most  of  the  performers  before.  They  were  all  very  good, 
but  very  well  won't  do  at  a  concert, — a  thing  too  stupid  in  itself 
for  any  thing  but  remarkable  and  exciting  talent  to  make  agree- 
able. There  was  a  performer  on  the  piano-forte  of  the  name  of 
Field,  who  was  very  much  puffed  before  he  began,  but  oh  lord ! 
how  tired  of  his  flourishes  we  were  before  he  ended.  I  am  no 
very  great  judge  in  such  matters,  but  he  did  not  seem  to  me  to 
play  at  all  better,  Mary,  than  the  little  S******  at  Washington. 
Yet  the  king  sent  him  his  compliments  with  1200  francs.  Apro- 
pos, I  hear  her  mother  is  rather  cracked,  and  one  of  the  ladies  of 
the  queen,  Madame  de  Stassart,  who  met  with  her  many  years 
ago  at  Paris,  asked  after  her.  And  thus  ends  my  long  history 
of  the  Queen  of  the  French  at  Brussels.  She  is  expected  to 
return  here  to  be  present  at  the  accouchement  of  her  daughter, 
some  time  in  June  or  July.  Madame  Adelaide,  our  queen's  aunt, 
and  her  pretty  sister  Clementine,  are  to  visit  us  in  a  few  days, 
when,  I  suppose,  I  shall  see  something  more  of  them  all. 

About  a  week  before  the  grand  dinner  I  have  been  speaking 
of,  I  dined  at  Court,  and  being  entitled  to  precedence  over  the 
rest  of  the  company  present,  I  had  the  honor  of  sitting  next  to 
her  majesty  (Queen  Louise)  at  dinner.  She  speaks  English  very 
well  indeed,  as  do  all  her  brothers  and  sisters,  and,  as  the  king 
is  perfect  master  of  the  language,  they  generally  converse  toge- 
ther in  that  tongue.  I  had  often  exchanged  a  few  sentences  with 
her  before,  but  never  kept  up  so  long  a  conversation.  I  found 
her  very  sensible,  interesting  herself  very  much  in  politics,  and 
well  informed  of  what  has  been  going  on  in  America.  She  told 
me  she  had  read  some  excellent  remarks  on  nullification  in  the 
French  journals,  and  asked  me  if  I  had  seen  any  of  those  pieces. 
1  told  her  I  had,  and  was  struck  with  their  good  sense,  and, 


PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE.  249 

especially  with  the  good  feeling  with  which  they  seemed  to  de- 
plore the  possibility  of  a  disunion  of  the  States, — an  event  fraught 
with  the  ruin  of  the  whole  continent.  I  had  seen  it  stated  in 
one  of  the  newspapers  that  the  Princess  Bagration, — who  passed 
through  Brussels  about  six  months  ago  on  her  way  to  Paris, 
where  she  now  is,  and,  indeed,  is  said  to  be  privily  married  to 
a  remarkably  handsome  and  amiable  young  English  officer  of 
my  acquaintance, — had  been  ordered  by  the  Czar  Nicholas  to 
return  to  Russia  immediately,  upon  pain  of  confiscation  of  all 
her  estate.  I  asked  the  queen  if  it  could  possibly  be  true.  She 
told  me  it  was, — and  that  the  motive  assigned  for  it  was  that  the 
princess  had  dined  at  Court  when  she  was  here, — the  King  of 
the  Belgians  not  having,  as  yet,  been  recognized  by  the  Russian 
autocrat.  I  replied  that  I  thought  it  a  piece  of  despotism,  at 
once  so  barbarous  and  so  unmanly,  that  I  could  not  but  doubt 
its  existence.  Yes,  said  she,  I  suppose  it  must  appear  very  re- 
volting to  you. 

Upon  the  whole,  as  you  may  infer  from  this  and  some  of  my 
more  recent  letters,  Brussels  has  been  very  agreeable  during  the 
winter.  I  gave,  myself,  a  grand  dinner  to  the  diplomatic  corps 
and  some  of  the  ministers,  but,  although  the  English  ladies  were 
all  teazing  me  to  let  them  dance  in  my  fine  house,  as  they  said, 
I  would  not  go  the  ball.  I  did  not  feel  well  enough  settled  for 
that,  and  then  I  hate  to  be  put  out  next  day.  If  I  stay  here  next 
winter  I  may,  possibly,  be  more  obliging,  and,  indeed,  gratitude 
would  seem  to  require  it,  for  nothing  can  be  kinder  than  the 
reception  the  English  here,  especially,  have  given  me.  Except 
that  they  call  me  Legarry,  instead  of  Legree,  I  could  almost 
fancy  myself  at  home, — and,  I  assure  you,  although  very  much 
accustomed  to  be  petted  in  Charleston,  as  you  know,  I  have  no 
reason  to  be  at  all  dissatisfied  with  the  place  I  hold  here.  Know- 
ing the  English  as  well  as  I  do, — their  pride,  their  whims,  their 
precision,  etc., — I  feel  more  complimented  by  their  intercourse 
with  me,  than  by  all  the  fine  things  their  ambassador  here  has 
been  pleased  to  say  of  me.  One  of  the  gentlemen  is  always 
telling  me  I  ought  to  have  gone  or  go  as  ambassador  to  London, 
I  should  not  break  my  heart  if  a  certain  great  man,  3000  miles 
off,  were  to  take  the  same  idea  into  his  head.  And,  apropos  of 
this,  the  consul  at  Ostend,  who  is  just  returned  from  Washing- 
ton, tells  me  I  am  in  very  good  odor  there,  and  may  expect 
promotion.  This  gentleman  seemed  delighted  with  me  and  my 
establishment,  except  that  there  was  no  lady  in  it,  though  he 
protested  vehemently  against  my  marrying  any  of  "the  quality 
here",  as  he  called  it,  when  my  own  country  boasts  the  most 
beautiful  and  virtuous  women  in  the  world,  (and  so  it  does,  un- 
questionably). He  told  me,  too,  jocularly,  that  if  I  did  not  treat 
him  with  great  indulgence,  as  my  subaltern,  he  would  tell  upon 
vol.  i. — 32 


250  PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE. 

me,  at  Washington,  how  I  was  living  like  a  lord,  etc.,  though,  he* 
added,  he  believed  the  stingiest  democrat  of  them  would  be  proud 
to  know  it. 

Vanity  of  vanities,  all  is  vanity,  saith  the  Charge.  As  I  am 
here,  I  should  be  pleased  to  be  transferred  to  London  or  Paris, 
and  to  spend  a  few  years  more,  under  such  advantageous  cir- 
cumstances, in  Europe,  but  only  afeiv  years,  and  solely  with  a 
view  to  increased  wisdom  and  usefulness.  All,  else,  I  know  to 
be  nonsense.  I  think,  too,  my  education  and  studies  have  given 
me  a  decided  advantage  over  the  great  majority  of  Americans, 
and  that  I  can  do  the  country  some  service,  and,  may  I  add, 
honor  ?  So,  you  see,  patriotism  makes  me  seek  my  own  eleva- 
tion, which,  however  paradoxical  it  may  be,  is  the  naked  truth. 

I  embrace  you  both,  my  sisters,  sincerely  and  tenderly. 

H.  S.  L. 


Mr.  Legare  to  his  Mother. 

Brussels,  11th  May,  1835. 

My  dear  Mother ', — I  returned  yesterday  from  a  short  excur- 
sion to  Antwerp,  of  which  I  enclose  you  some  memoranda, 
thinking  they  might  amuse  you.  Mary  (to  whom  I  wrote  about 
a  fortnight  ago)  will,  I  dare  say,  take  an  interest  in  what  I  say 
of  the  fine  pictures  I  saw  there, — though,  I  suppose,  I  gave  her 
a  full  account  of  them  when  I  returned  from  the  same  city  just 
two  years  ago.  If  so,  she  may  compare  my  two  descriptions, 
and  amuse  herself  with  the  changes  which  time  has,  probably, 
made  in  some  of  my  opinions  on  such  subjects,  as  on  others  yet 
more  important. 

The  change  of  air  has  done  me  wonderful  good,— that  is,  it 
has  continued  and,  I  hope,  completed  the  effect  of  a  course  of 
medicine  I  had  gone  through,  to  get  rid  of  some  bad  humors  in 
my  blood  and  bile,  and  prepare  me  to  benefit  by  such  an  excur- 
sion. I  have  been  horribly  dyspeptic  for  a  long  time  past,  with 
symptoms,  as  I  hinted  to  you  before,  of  a  certain  malady  of 
sedentary  persons,  which  has  always  alarmed  me  very  much, 
but  not  as  much  as  I  now  think  it  ought.  For  a  week  after  I 
left  Brussels  these  symptoms  had  totally  disappeared,  and  my 
stomach  been  restored  to  a  tone  of  strength  and  health,  such  as 
I  have  not  experienced  this  many  a  long  day.  But,  a  day  or 
two  before  I  left  Antwerp,  in  consequence,  I  believe,  of  my  hav- 
ing been  tempted  by  over-confidence  in  it,  to  eat  vegetables  and 
acid  things, — which  I,  in  general,  never  touch  at  all, — I  had  a 
short  relapse.  Abstinence  the  next  day,  and  activity  since,  have 
kept  me  very  well  for  the  two  last  days. 

I  returned  to  Brussels  yesterday,  and  did  intend  to  go  on  im- 


PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE.  251 

mediately  to  Liege  and  Cologne,  where  I  should  have  amused 
myself  for  some  fortnight  or  three  weeks  more,  until  I  should 
have  been  quite  re-established.  The  truth  is,  I  am  exhausted 
by  intense,  perpetual  meditation  in  solitude,  which  sounds  oddly 
enough  in  the  mouth  of  one  of  the  corps  diplomatique,  in  rather 
a  gay  Court  and  city,  but  is  nevertheless  true.  It  is  true  I  have 
been,  during  the  whole  winter,  dining  out,  going  to  the  theatre, 
where  I  had  part  of  a  box,  and  to  balls  and  soirees,  every  eve- 
ning; but  then,  these  engagements  left  me  the  whole  day,  from 
half-past  6  in  the  morning  to  half-past  5,  and  often  till  7,  perfectly 
alone, — reading,  writing  and  thinking  perpetually, — even  at  my 
meals,  when  at  home,  wrapt  up  in  thought  and  actually  occupied 
with  books.  I  have  been  taking  a  great  deal  of  exercise  during 
the  whole  winter,  and  it  has  done  me  immense  good,  but  still  I 
was  never  well ;  scarcely  a  day  passed  that  I  was  not,  some  time 
or  other  in  the  course  of  it,  more  or  less  indisposed, — and,  if  I 
deviated  at  any  time  from  the  strictest  simplicity  of  diet,  (which 
I  very  seldom  did,)  I  never  failed  to  pay  a  heavy  penalty  for  it 
during  the  night  or  the  next  day.  But  I  shall  never  have  done, 
if  I  go  into  details  of  this  sort,  which  I  trust  are  now  become 
mere  matter  of  history. 

You  will  have  learned,  from  my  last  letter  to  Mary,  that  I 
have  asked  leave,  for  better  for  worse,  to  return  to  America  next 
June,  with  the  conditional  permission  of  doing  so  in  October, 
if  your  letters  require  it.  When  I  did  so,  I  thought  our  differ- 
ence with  France  about  to  be  immediately  adjusted,  (as  it  might 
easily  have  been,)  but,  within  these  few  days,  that  matter  has 
assumed  a  different  complexion,  and  I  should  not  be  surprised 
if  something  serious  came  of  it  at  last,  by  the  strange  manage- 
ment of  the  parties  concerned.  In  that  event,  I  do  not  know 
what  the  President  will  do. 

God  bless  you  all.  H.  S.  L. 


Mr.  Legare  to  his  Sister. 

Spa,  Midi  14  Aout,  1834. 
The  date  of  this  letter,  my  dear  Mary,  reminds  me  that  it  was 
this  very  month, fifteen  years  ago,  that  I  first  visited  Spa, — a 
younker,  then,  of  22-3,  with  a  head  full  of  imaginings,  a  few  of 
which  have  been  since  realized,  but  the  greater  part,  of  course, 
gone  to  that  limbo  where,  dit-on,  all  things  lost  on  earth,  that 
are  empty  enough  to  fly  upwards,  are  to  be  found.  I  am  just 
this  moment  arrived,  and  as  it  is  too  hot  to  go  out,  (for  this  sum- 
mer has  been  warm  enough  to  be  called  summer,)  I  feel  inclined 
to  turn  the  first  moments  of  my  leisure  here  to  account, — that  is, 
to  an  account  of  why  and  how  I  came  here. 


252  PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE. 

Brussels,  like  other  great  cities,  is  deserted  in  the  summer, — 
that  is  to  say,  by  some  scores  of  people  that  call  themselves  every 
body, — but  this  summer,  especially,  its  desolation  has  been  fright- 
ful. This  is  owing  to  the  deaths  of  some  of  those  people  whose 
houses  were  points  of  general  rendezvous  to  all  one  would  wish 
to  meet ;  such,  especially,  as  the  Prince  Auguste  d'Arenberg  and 
Lady  Charlotte  Fitzgerald.  They  remained  in  town  all  last 
summer,  and  you  know  how  much  of  my  time  was  agreeably 
passed  in  the  society  which  these  distinguished  persons  gathered 
about  them.  Besides  dining  with  the  Prince  once,  twice,  and 
even  three  times  a  week,  the  corps  diplomatique  were  generally 
invited  to  dinner  by  the  King  on  Thursdays,  and  not  unfre- 
quently  on  Tuesdays  or  Sundays  besides.  The  consequence 
was  that,  for  many  months,  I  literally  lived  in  the  most  agree- 
able manner  with  the  most  agreeable  people,  and  consider  my 
social  position  at  Brussels  as  having  been  as  fortunate  as  it  pos- 
sibly could  be,  if  fortunate  it  can  be  called,  considering  the  sort 
of  people  it  has  accustomed  me  to,  and  the  sort  of  people  it  has 
singularly  estranged  me  from, — though  not  forever.  Vons  com- 
'prenez. 

I  left  Brussels  on  the  10th.  Slept  at  a  miserable  village  called 
Wavre,  but  slept  well,  although  I  went  to  bed  ?mwell,  and  not 
without  serious  apprehensions,  from  my  sensations  in  leaving 
town  and  during  the  short  journey  of  fifteen  miles  in  the  after- 
noon, that  I  was  going  to  be  attacked  furiously  by  the  cholera, 
native  or  imported.  The  next  day,  at  12,  1  arrived  at  Namur, — 
for,  I  must  here  mention  to  you,  that  the  great  object  of  my  ex- 
cursion was  to  take  the  famous  drive  on  the  bank  of  the  Meuse, 
from  that  city  to  Liege,  a  distance  of  about  forty-five  miles, 
which  is  as  much  vaunted  as  any  equal  extent  of  country  in 
Europe.  I  was  in  my  own  carriage,  and,  of  course,  did  it  all 
very  leisurely.  Between  Namur  and  Liege  is  a  little  town, 
crammed  in  between  the  mountains,  through  which  the  Meuse 
forces  its  way,  and  cut  in  two  by  this  river,  known,  it  seems,  to 
antiquity,  and  recorded  by  the  Emperor  Antoninus,  now  called 
Huy  or  Hoey.  Of  this  little  rookery  I  made  a  stage.  It  is  nearly 
half  way  between  the  two  cities  just  mentioned,  and  divides  the 
scenery  into  classes  as  well  as  parts :  the  upper  is  wilder  and 
more  rugged, — the  valley  of  the  river  being  quite  narrow,  gen- 
erally walled  in  by  beetling  and  craggy  cliffs  of  great  height, 
and  only  now  and  then  running  out  into  the  country  in  a  recess 
spacious  enough  to  admit  a  village,  or  giving  the  river  two  beds 
instead  of  one,  and  filling  up  the  interval  between  them  with 
islets  of  smooth  meadow-ground.  The  road  is  MacAdamised, 
and  runs  the  whole  way  just  upon  the  edge  of  the  stream, 
which,  during  the  summer,  is  shallow  enough  to  be  fordable 
every  where,  so  that  the  boats  that  navigate  it  are  pulled  up  by 


PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE.  253 

horses  that  wade  in  the  stream  itself,  instead  of  walking  upon 
the  banks.  This  celebrated  scenery  sometimes  recalled  to  me 
the  French  Broad,  which  you  have  seen, — but  it  differs  from  it, 
first  in  that  the  valley  is  uniformly  wider,  and  so  presents  more 
variety  and  soft  contrasts, — and  then  that  the  banks  are  less  bold 
and  striking  as  mountain  cliffs.  I  enjoyed  the  evening  at  Huy 
extremely.  I  arrived  there  just  before  sunset  of  a  charming 
evening,  and  saw,  when  I  walked  out,  the  last  blushing  tints  of 
day  fade  away  in  the  west,  while  the  crescent  of  the  young 
moon  gradually  brightened  as  they  faded  away,  and,  at  length, 
hung  over  the  point  of  the  mountains  that  shut  up  my  prospect 
on  almost  all  sides,  and  looked,  in  its  quiet  softness  and  beauty, 
like  the  eye  of  heaven  itself,  reminding  man  of  its  presence  even 
in  the  deepest  and  stillest  solitudes.  You  will,  I  am  sure,  excuse 
this  flight,  and  all  this  attempt  at  description,  when  I  tell  you 
that  more  than  ever,  now,  I  love  and  long  for  the  repose  of  na- 
ture, for  which  I  was  certainly  formed,  although  it  has  been 
hitherto  my  lot  to  enjoy  it  so  little  ;  and,  while  I  am  writing  to 
you  at  my  window,  a  very  pretty  girl,  perched  up  at  her's  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  court,  occasionally  casts  down  upon  me  a 
glance  of  curiosity,  which  I  could  almost  wish  were  one  of  ten- 
derness. From  Huy  to  Liege,  the  scene  becomes  more  and  more 
cultivated  and  soft,  and,  of  course,  less  like  what  you  are  accus- 
tomed to. 

At  Liege,  my  taste  for  the  picturesque  brought  me  into  the 
greatest  scrape  of  the  kind  I  ever  fell  into.  The  town  is  built 
on  the  Meuse,  and  runs  up  the  side  of  a  mountain.  After  hav- 
ing visited  the  lower  part  of  it,  I  determined,  in  the  evening,  to 
take  an  excursion  (on  foot,  mind  you)  into  the  upper,  in  order  to 
have  a  fine  prospect.  Accordingly,  ignorant  of  the  geography 
of  the  coast  and  without  chart  or  pilot,  I  set  out  at  random,  and 
pursued  the  first  street  that  led  upwards.  And  I  continued  to 
pursue  it  and  pursue  it,  with  indefatigable  perseverance,  although 
half  dead  with  heat  and  fatigue,  until  I  saw  a  sort  of  alley 
which  came  down  a  tremendous  flight  of  steps.  This  seemed 
to  me  to  be  just  the  thing  for  my  design  on  the  picturesque,  and 
so  I  shot  into  this  lane  by  way  of  variety,  mounted  the  steps, 
and  kept  mounting,  without  being  able  to  see  any  thing  at  all 
but  the  ground  under  my  feet  and  the  sky  over  my  head,  for  the 
cursed  lane  was  absolutely  shut  in  on  both  sides  by  a  wall,  along 
its  whole  length.  At  last,  arrived  at  the  very  summit  of  the 
mountain,  I  found  that,  by  mounting  up  upon  the  inner  wall, 
where  it  became  practicable,  I  could  place  myself  so  as  to  be 
able  to  get  an  imperfect  view  of  the  valley,  the  city  and  the 
heights  in  the  distance.  I  returned  dissatisfied  and  exhausted, 
and  consoling  myself  only  with  the  reflection  that  the  fatigue 


254  PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE. 

was  good  for  my  health,  and  by  drinking,  to  quench  my  burn- 
ing thirst,  half  a  bottle  of  Moselle  wine,  (mixed  with  cool  water, 
bien  entendu,)  almost  as  soon  as  it  was  possible  to  swallow  it. 

The  cathedral  of  Liege  is  a  beautiful  building, — not  by  any 
means  so  vast  and  imposing  as  that  of  Antwerp,  but  highly  or- 
namented, and  having  a  striking  air  of  neatness  and  elegance, — 
epithets  that  seem  not  quite  in  character  with  such  a  structure, 
and  yet  are  applicable  to  it.  There  are  some  very  fine  pictures 
in  it.  I  was  delighted,  especially,  with  the  Baptism,  by  Carlier. 
The  savage  solitude  of  the  place, — the  naked  form  of  the  Bap- 
tist,— the  meek,  downcast  eyes  and  reverential  posture  of  the 
Saviour, — the  expressive  countenances  of  the  deeply  interested 
spectators  of  the  divine  ceremony, — the  descent  of  the  dove  upon 
the  head  of  "the  beloved  Son," — every  thing  is  perfectly  well 
done.  Another  famous  and  able  picture  is  the  "St.  Jerome  and 
the  Uoctors  of  the  Church";  and  a  third  is  St.  Borromeo  offer- 
ing up  the  prayer  by  which  the  plague  of  Milan  was  arrested. 
This  latter  is  an  admirable  little  picture.  They  were  both  car- 
ried to  Paris  by  the  French,  together  with  so  many  other  master- 
pieces, and  have  been  restored  since  the  peace.  I  am  become,  as 
you  perceive,  quite  an  amateur  of  painting,  and  wish  I  were  as 
great  a  connoisseur. 

The  road  from  Liege  hither  is  also  MacAdamised, — a  circum- 
stance worth  mentioning  on  the  Continent,  where  the  highways 
are  all  paved,  like  the  streets  of  their  towns,  with  large  stones, 
jostling  and  stunning  the  traveller  to  his  heart's  content.  This 
unusual  improvement  is  due  to  a  Mr.  Cockerell,  an  Englishman 
established  at  Liege,  who  has  done  immense  good  to  this  whole 
country  by  his  enterprise.  The  road  I  speak  of,  during  the 
whole  distance  of  nearly  twenty-five  miles,  runs  thro'  a  valley, 
crossing  and  re-crossing  a  small  stream  twenty  times.  As  you 
have  travelled  over  the  Alleghanies,  you  can  form  a  very  just 
idea  of  a  valley,  or,  as  they  call  it  in  North-Carolina,  a  gap 
road  :  but  what  you  cannot  have  any  conception  of  is  the  plea- 
sure I  enjoyed  during  the  whole  of  my  progress  through  this 
mountain  solitude.  You  know  I  went  to  the  upper  country,  four 
years  ago,  in  my  own  carriage,  in  the  same  way,  with  no  other 
company  but  my  coachman.  I  was  thinking  all  the  way  this 
morning  of  Boatswain  (the  black  servant  I  then  had)  and  the 
Blue  Ridge,  and  wondering  how  long  it  would  be  before  the 
streams  of  the  latter  would  turn  so  many  mills,  and  its  green 
spots  be  adorned  with  such  pretty  country-seats  and  pleasure- 
grounds.  It  is  delightful  to  me  to  indulge  in  my  love  of  nature 
in  her  retired  grandeur  :  I  feel,  in  these  still  mountain  regions, 
as  if  I  were  in  her  presence-chamber.  Manufactures,  to  be  sure, 
are  a  profanation  :    and  here  the  Alleghanies,  in  their  virgin 


PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE-  255 

wildness,  have  the  advantage  of  European  mountains,— though 
I  remember  how  shocked  I  was  when  I  saw  that  the  famous  fall 
of  Montmorency,  near  Quebec,  had  been  turned  into  a  mill-seat. 

15th  August.  There  is  very  little  company  at  Spa,  and  that 
little  not  much.  I  went  to  bed  quietly  at  10  last  night,  and  at  6 
this  morning  rose,  and,  after  losing  an  hour  and  a  half  at  my 
toilette,  got  into  my  carriage  and  visited  the  Geronstere  spring, 
which  is  on  the  summit  of  one  of  the  neighboring  heights,  and 
very  hard  to  be  got  at,  except  as  people  generally  visit  it, — on  a 
donkey.  The  sun  beat  on  me  unmercifully  as  I  labored  up  the 
steep,  the  top  of  my  landaulette  having  been  thrown  open, — but 
the  delicious  temperature  which  I  found  in  the  shady  walks  of 
the  Geroustere,  and  the  fine  prospect  from  it,  fully  indemnified 
me  for  what  I  suffered.  From  the  Geronstere,  I  crossed  the 
mountain,  which  is  quite  barren  and  covered  with  a  wild  dwarf 
shrubbery,  (bruyere,)  to  two  other  fountains,  of  which  the  wa- 
ters are  somewhat  different,  though  all  containing  carbonic  acid 
and  iron,  and,  therefore,  good  for  indigestion  in  its  ten  thousand 
infernal  shapes.  At  the  Groesbeck  spring,  I  saw  a  person,  appa- 
rently about  thirty-five  years  of  age,  whose  complexion  indicated 
a  bad  liver,  and  whose  malady  is  a  perpetual  vigil;  he  has,  for 
some  time  past,  hardly  slept  half  an  hour  a  night !  Great  God  ! 
think  of  that.  What  an  insupportable  idea,  a  life  which  is  all 
one  day  ;  and  yet  we  tremble  at  death,  without  which  we  should 
suffer  the  same  thing,  aggravated  ten  thousand  fold.  "Visiting 
watering-places  is  a  good  course  of  moral  study,— far  more  im- 
pressive than  Young's  Night  Thoughts  or  Hervey's  Meditations. 
The  first  time  you  feel  disposed  to  be  discontented  and  querru- 
lous  about  things  of  no  real  consequence,  go  to  the  springs  and 
speak  with  the  invalids  there. 

Louvain,  17th  Aug.,  1\  o'clock,  P.  M.  Looking  over  what 
I  wrote  at  Spa,  I  have  great  scruples  about  sending  you  an  ac- 
count of  my  pleasures,  which  it  will  give  you  so  much  pain  to 
decipher.  But  I  never  copied  what  I  wrote  for  the  Southern 
Review, — how  should  I  copy  a  letter  ?  Besides,  you  will  have 
a  specimen  of  the  pen,  ink  and  paper  they  use  at  the  Hotel  de 
l'Orange  at  Spa, — and,  generally,  of  the  sort  of  discomforts,  un- 
der the  name  of  pleasures,  one  is  willing  to  exchange  his  own 
home  for,  even  when,  like  mine  at  Brussels,  it  combines  every 
thing  necessary,  or  not  necessary,  to  a  life  of  the  most  perfect 
epicurean  ease  and  voluptuousness. 

I  arrived  in  this  famous  old  town  about  two  hours  ago,  and 
expect  to  be  at  Brussels  (eighteen  miles  off)  to-morrow  evening. 
As  soon  as  I  had  ordered  dinner,  I  sallied  out  to  see  the  Hotel 
de  Ville  and  the  principal  church.  The  former  is  a  renowned 
specimen  of  Gothic  architecture,  four  hundred  years  old,  and 
deserves  all  its  reputation.     It  is,  without  doubt,  the  most  re- 


256  PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE. 

markable  monument  of  the  sort  I  ever  saw.  But  I  shan't  attempt 
to  describe  it,  as  I  mean  that  you  shall  see,  sooner  or  later,  an 
engraving  of  it.  At  the  church,  I  found  them  in  the  midst  of 
the  evening  service,  and  passed  half  an  hour  there,  as  I  always 
do  in  such  a  place  at  such  an  hour,  with  the  deepest  interest.  I 
am,  as  I  always  have  been,  in  my  heart  or  my  imagination,  I 
don't  exactly  know  which,  more  than  half  a  Catholic  ;  and  it  is 
positively  no  exaggeration  to  say  that  nothing  in  the  world  has 
such  attractions  for  me  as  that  service,  in  the  evening  especially, 
performed  with  good  music  and  the  pomp  of  some  solemn  occa- 
sion. This  evening  there  was  a  procession  within  the  vast  build- 
ing itself,  with  wax-lights,  a  cohort  of  priests  and  acolytes,  thun- 
dering forth  their  Latin  psalmody  in  concert  with  the  peal  of  the 
organ  above,  while  all  these  sounds  were  nearly  drowned  in  the 
tolling  of  the  mighty  bells  of  the  cathedral. 

To  return  to  Spa.  While  there,  although  remarkably  well,  I 
was  tempted  to  try  the  waters  of  the  several  fountains.  I  became 
convinced  of  their  virtues  by  their  vicious  effects  on  me.  For  a 
couple  of  days  afterwards,  I  felt  precisely  as  one  does  after  taking 
a  dose  of  laudanum.  The  first  day  my  appetite  was  voracious, 
though  quite  healthy, — the  second  and  third  it  was  still  great, 
but  morbid,  attended  with  an  occasional  feeling  of  disgust.  I 
am  now  quite  restored,  and  am  in  most  excellent  condition.  I 
am  satisfied  that,  with  all  necessary  prudence  in  taking  them, 
their  efficacy  must  be  very  great ;  and  I  shall  certainly  pass 
some  weeks  there  next  summer.  There  can  be  no  doubt,  how 
ever,  that  the  effects  of  the  water  are  wonderfully  increased  by 
the  manner  of  living  at  Spa, — breathing  the  air  of  the  mountains 
at  six  o'clock  in  the  morning,  walking,  riding  and  driving  many 
miles  a  day,  banishing  all  care,  going  to  bed  early,  etc.,  etc.  How 
strange  it  is  to  meet  people  there  whom  one  has  seen  in  the  midst 
of  Courts  and  capitals,  with  all  their  trumpery  and  constraint, 
negligently  dressed,  mounted  on  donkeys,  talking  with  the  first 
comer,  without  distinction  of  persons,  and  acknowledging  them- 
selves happier  and  healthier,  both  in  body  and  mind,  than  in 
those  envied  (but  not  enviable)  circles  where  it  is  the  silly  ambi- 
tion of  mankind  to  shine  !  Watering-places  are  a  sort  of  con- 
fessionals or  shrines,  set  apart  by  nature,  to  which  pilgrims  of 
all  nations  resort  to  renounce,  for  a  moment,  the  lying  vanities 
of  the  world,  and  get  absolution  for  sins  and  errors  they  are  sure 
to  return  to  as  soon  as  opportunity  presents.  Of  these  pilgrims 
by  far  the  greater  portion  (at  least,  of  any  one  nation)  are  Eng- 
lish. It  is  inconceivable  what  multitudes  of  them  are  swarming 
over  the  whole  face  of  this  country,  paying  twice  and  thrice  as 
much  as  they  ought  for  every  thing  they  stand  in  need  of.    *    * 

H.  S.  L. 


ORATION. 


An  Oration,  delivered  on  the  Fourth  of  July,   1823,  before  the  '76  Association  ; 
and  published  at  their  request.     Charleston.     A.  E.  Miller.     1823. 

Cicero  begins  a  celebrated  oration  by  congratulating  himself 
upon  the  felicity  of  his  subject — in  the  discussion  of  which  he 
thought  that  an  orator,  were  he  never  so  feeble  or  unpractised, 
could  not  fail  to  be  more  embarrassed  with  the  choice,  than  the 
invention  of  his  topics,  and  to  carry  along  with  him  the  entire 
sympathy  of  his  audience.  For  the  occasion  required  him  to 
dwell  upon  the  virtues  and  achievements  of  the  great  Pompey — 
a  man,  who  had  been,  from  his  earliest  youth,  identified  with  the 
glory  of  his  country — who  had  transcended  and  eclipsed  the 
recorded  honours  of  her  Scipios  and  Metellus' — and,  under  whose 
auspices,  "victory  flew  with  her  eagles"  from  Lusitania  to  Cau- 
casus and  the  Euphrates.  But  what  would  not  the  genius  of  the 
Roman  orator,  who  found  so  much  scope  for  the  amplifications 
of  his  unrivalled  eloquence,  in  the  events  of  a  single  life,  and 
the  glory  of  a  few  campaigns,  have  made  of  a  subject — so  in- 
teresting in  itself — so  peculiarly  affecting,  and  so  dear  to  his 
auditors — so  fertile,  so  various,  so  inspiring — as  that  to  which 
he  who  now  addresses  you  will  have  been  indebted,  for  what- 
ever of  interest,  or  of  attention  it  may  be  his  good  fortune  to 
awaken  ?  What  were  the  exploits  of  a  single  individual,  to  the 
efforts  of  a  whole  people — heated  with  all  the  enthusiasm  of  a 
mighty  contest,  and  rushing  into  the  battles  of  Liberty,  under 
the  impulses  of  a  patriotism,  the  most  heroic  and  self-devoting? 
What  were  the  victories  of  Pompey — to  the  united  achievements 
of  our  Washingtons  and  Montgomerys  and  Greens — our  Frank- 
lins and  Jeffersons  and  Adams'  and  Laurens' — of  the  Senate  of 
Sages,  whose  wisdom  conducted — of  the  band  of  warriors,  whose 
valour  accomplished — of  the  "noble  army  of  martyrs",  whose 
blood  sealed  and  consecrated  the  Revolution  of  '76?  What 
were  the  events  of  a  few  campaigns — however  brilliant  and 
successful — in  the  wars  of  Italy,  or  Spain,  or  Pontus — to  by 
far  the  greatest  era — excepting,  perhaps,  the  Reformation—that 
has  occurred  in  the  political  history  of  modern  times — to  an  era 
that  has  fixed  forever  the  destinies  of  a  whole  quarter  of  the 
globe,  with  the  numbers  without  number  that  are  soon  to  in- 
habit it — and  has  already  had,  as  it  will  probably  continue  to 
vol.  i.— 33 


258  CHARACTERISTICS  OF  THE 


have,  a  visible  influence  upon  the  condition  of  society  in  all  the 
rest?  Nay — shall  I  be  accused  of  extravagance,  if  going  still 
further  1  ask,  what  is  there  even  in  the  most  illustrious  series  of 
victories  and  conquests,  that  can  justly  be  considered  as  afford- 
ing, to  a  mind  that  dares  to  make  a  philosophic  estimate  of  human 
affairs,  a  nobler  and  more  interesting  subject  of  contemplation 
and  discourse,  than  the  causes  which  led  to  the  foundation  of 
this  mighty  empire — than  the  wonderful  and  almost  incredible 
history  of  what  it  has  since  done  and  is  already  grown  to — than 
the  scene  of  unmingled  prosperity  and  happiness  that  is  opening 
and  spreading  all  around  us  -  than  the  prospect  as  dazzling  as  it 
is  vast,  that  lies  before  us — the  uncircumscribed  career  of  ag- 
grandizement and  improvement  which  we  are  beginning  to  run 
under  such  happy  auspices  and  with  the  advantage  of  having 
started  at  a  point  where  it  were  well  for  the  species  had  it  been 
the  lot  of  many  nations  even  to  have  ended  theirs. 

It  is  true,  we  shall  not  boast  to  day  that  the  pomp  of  triumph 
has  three  hundred  times  ascended  the  steps  of  our  capitol — or 
that  the  national  temple  upon  its  brow  blazes  in  the  spoils  of  a 
thousand  cities.  True,  we  do  not  send  forth  our  praetors  to 
plunder  and  devastate  the  most  fertile  and  beautiful  portions  of 
the  earth,  in  order  that  a  haughty  aristocracy  may  be  enriched 
with  booty,  or  a  worthless  populace  be  supplied  with  bread — 
nor  in  every  region  under  the  sun,  from  the  foot  of  the  Gram- 
pian hills,  to  the  land  of  frankincense  and  myrrh,  is  the  spirit  of 
man  broken  and  debased  by  us  beneath  the  iron  yoke  of  a  mili- 
tary domination.  No,  my  friends  !  This  is,  indeed,  what  the 
world  calls  glory — but  let  us  be  glad  that  we  are  not  come  here 
to  boast  of  such  things.  Our  triumphs  are  the  triumphs  of 
reason — of  happiness — of  human  nature.  Our  rejoicings  are 
greeted  with  the  most  cordial  sympathy  of  the  cosmopolite  and 
the  philanthrophist :  and  the  good  and  the  wise  all  round  the 
globe  give  us  back  the  echo  of  our  acclamations.  It  is  the 
singular  fortune — or  I  should  rather  say — it  is  the  proud  dis- 
tinction of  Americans — it  is  what  we  are  now  met  to  return 
thanks  for  and  to  exult  in — that  in  the  race  of  moral  improve- 
ment, which  society  has  been  every  where  running  for  some 
centuries  past,  we  have  outstripped  every  competitor  and  have 
carried  our  institutions,  in  the  sober  certainty  of  waking  bliss,  to 
a  higher  pitch  of  perfection  than  ever  warmed  the  dreams  of 
enthusiasm  or  the  speculations  of  the  theorist.  It  is  that  a  whole 
continent  has  been  set  apart,  as  if  it  were  holy  ground,  for  the 
cultivation  of  pure  truth — for  the  pursuit  of  happiness  upon 
rational  principles,  and,  in  the  way  that  is  most  agreeable  to 
nature — for  the  development  of  all  the  sensibilities,  and  ca- 
pacities, and  powers  of  the  human  mind,  without  any  artificial 
restraint  or  bias,  in  the  broad  daylight  of  modern  science  and 


AMERICAN  REVOLUTION.  259 

political  liberty.  It  is  that,  over  the  whole  extent  of  this  gigan- 
tic empire — stretching  as  it  does  from  the  St.  Croix  to  the  Sabine, 
and  from  the  waters  of  the  Atlantic  almost  to  those  of  the  Pa- 
cific— wherever  man  is  found,  he  is  seen  to  walk  abroad  in  all 
the  dignity  of  his  nature — with  none  to  intimidate,  or  to  insult, 
or  to  oppress  him — with  no  superior  upon  this  earth  that  does 
not  deserve  to  be  so — and  that,  in  the  proud  consciousness  of  his 
privileges,  his  soul  is  filled  with  the  most  noble  apprehensions, 
and  his  aspirations  lifted  up  to  the  most  exalted  objects,  and  his 
efforts  animated  and  encouraged  in  the  pursuit  of  whatever  has 
a  tendency  to  bless  and  adorn  his  existence.  This  is  the  boast 
we  make — this  is  the  theme  of  the  day  we  are  celebrating — and 
do  any  of  you  envy  the  feelings  of  the  man — who  denies  that 
the  one  is  as  rational  and  just,  as  the  other  is  noble  and  trans- 
porting I 

It  has  been  usual  on  this  occasion — as  nothing,  certainly,  can 
be  more  appropriate  and  natural — to  expatiate  upon  the  events 
of  the  revolutionary  contest,  and  to  honour,  in  a  suitable  strain  of 
panegyric,  such  of  the  founders  of  the  Republic  as  were  supposed 
to  have  rendered  it  the  most  important  services,  at  a  crisis  so  full 
of  peril  and  glory.  But  as  these  topics,  however  interesting  in 
themselves,  and  eminently  well  fitted  for  the  purposes  of  popular 
declamation,  are  become  so  trite  that  it  would  be  difficult,  by  any 
art  of  composition,  to  bestow  upon  them  the  graces  of  novelty,  I 
have  chosen  rather  to  exhibit  some  of  the  general  features — the 
great  leading  characteristics — by  which,  I  conceive  that  memo- 
rable event  to  be  distinguished  from  all  others  of  a  similar  kind, 
that  are  recorded  in  the  annals  of  empire. 

The  first  of  these  peculiarities  which  I  shall  notice,  is,  that 
the  Revolution  was  altogether  the  toork  of  principle. 

Whoever  is  anywise  conversant  with  political  history  knows 
that  such  has  always  been  the  blind  infatuation,  the  supine 
carelessness,  or  the  abject  servility  of  mankind,  that  not  only 
have  they  submitted  with  patience  to  the  grossest  abuses  and 
misrule,  but  that  they  have  seldom  been  roused  up  to  resistance, 
except  by  a  long  course  of  positive  suffering — or  by  events  that 
powerfully  affect  the  se?ises  and  fill  the  bosom,  even  of  the  most 
indifferent  spectator,  with  indignation  and  horror.  The  expul- 
sion of  the  Tarquins — the  overthrow  of  the  Decemvirs — the 
repeated  secessions  of  the  people  to  the  sacred  mount — with 
many  other  incidents  of  a  like  kind,  are  familiar  examples  of 
this  truth.  A  romantic  tradition  ascribes  to  a  similar  cause  the 
origin  of  Helvetic  liberty.  The  despotism  of  Philip  II.  would 
never  have  been  resisted  and  shaken,  nor  Holland  emerged,  in 
the  glory  and  greatness  of  freedom,  out  of  that  obscurity  to 
which  nature  seemed  so  studiously  to  have  condemned  her,  had 
it  not  been  for  the  infernal  atrocities  of  Alva,  and  the  martyr- 


260  CHARACTERISTICS  OF  THE 

dom  of  Eg mont  and  Horn — and  even  the  Revolution  of  :8S, 
which  seems,  in  this  respect,  to  approach  nearest  to  our  own — 
not  to  mention  that  it  grew  out  of  the  heats  of  religious  and 
even  a  bigoted  and  fanatic  zeal,  rather  than  the  love  of  civil 
liberty — was  not  etfected  until  a  whole  century  had  passed 
away  in  strife,  and  persecution,  and  cruelty,  and  woe — until 
kindred  hosts  had  been  arrayed  against  each  other  in  many  a 
iield  of  blood — until  Algernon  Sidney  had  died  like  a  felon 
by  the  hands  of  the  executioner ;  until,  in  short,  the  daring 
though  feeble  attempt  of  the  second  James  had  left  his  subjects 
no  alternative,  but  to  rid  themselves  at  once  of  the  predestinated 
and  incurable  perverseness  of  a  race,  that  had  neither  learned 
nor  forgotten  any  thing,  even  under  the  discipline  of  adversity 
and  exile.  But,  in  accounting  for  our  declaration  of  indepen- 
dence, it  is  quite  hyperbolical  to  speak — as  it  has  been  too  com- 
mon to  do — of  the  tyranny  of  the  mother  country,  and  the  evils 
under  which  the  Colonies  laboured,  as  too  grievous  to  be  en- 
dured. They  were,  indeed,  intolerable — but  only  to  such  men 
as  our  lathers.  There  was,  it  must  be  confessed,  good  cause  for 
resistance — but  it  may  be  affirmed  with  confidence  that  no  other 
people  upon  earth  would  have  rebelled  for  such  a  cause.  There 
was  nothing  in  their  situation  to  excite  the  passions  of  vulgar 
men.  There  was  none  of  the  atrocities  by  which  other  nations 
have  been  goaded  into  the  fury  of  civil  war — no  royal  outrages — 
no  patrician  insolence— no  religious  persecution — no  bloody  pro- 
scription of  the  wise  and  the  brave.  Even  the  right  of  taxation 
against  which  they  were  contending  was  a  prospective  and  con- 
tingent evil,  rather  than  an  actual  grievance,  and  nothing  can 
be  more  just  than  the  quaint  metaphor  of  Burke,  that  "they 
augured  misgovernment  at  a  distance,  and  snuffed  tyranny  in 
every  tainted  gale."  The  first  intelligence  of  the  stamp  act, 
threw  the  whole  country  at  the  same  instant  into  a  flame  :  it 
was  even  then  in  a  state  of  open  rebellion.  The  encroachments 
of  the  ministry  were  resisted  at  the  very  threshold,  and  the  mo- 
ment the  Colonies  became  conscious  of  the  yoke,  they  shook  it 
off.  One  spirit,  one  mind,  pervaded  and  animated  the  whole 
mass.  They  argued — refined — distinguished — explained,  with 
all  the  learned  ingenuity  ol  the  schools.  But  if  they  reasoned 
about  their  rights  with  the  subtlety  of  doctors — they  were  pre- 
pared to  maintain  them  with  the  constancy  of  martyrs,  and,  for 
the  first  time  in  the  history  of  civil  society,  a  metaphysical  dis- 
pute resulted  in  the  creation  of  a  great  empire. 

This  fact,  sufficiently  remarkable  for  its  singularity,  assumes 
a  still  more  important  aspect,  when  viewed,  as  it  ought  to  be  in 
connection  with  the  progress  of  society,  with  the  causes  that  ac- 
count for  it,  and  with  some  inferences  and  anticipations  which 
it  seems  naturally  to  suggest.     Undoubtedly,  the  situation  of  the 


AMERICAN  REVOLUTION.  261 

Colonies,  at  such  an  immense  distance  from  the  centre  of  the 
British  Empire,  must  have  weakened  every  sort  of  attraction  by 
which  they  were  held  to  it— and  the  peculiar  character,  too,  of 
the  first  settlers  will  conduce  very  much  to  the  solution  of  this 
curious  problem.  They  were  of  all  men  the  most  sensitive  and 
the  best  informed  upon  the  subject  of  their  rights  and  liberties. 
They  were  the  devoted  Huguenots,  who,  after  having  extorted 
by  their  valor  in  the  field,  with  Bourbon  and  Coligni,  with 
Rohan  and  Soubise,  a  short  interval  of  repose  from  persecution, 
had  at  length  abjured  forever  their  beautiful  native  land — the 
soft  and  delicious  banks  of  the  Loire,  where  industry  made 
them  rich,  virtuous,  happy — not,  as  other  adventurers  con- 
strained by  poverty  and  embarrassments  at  home  to  seek  their 
fortunes  on  a  distant  shore — not  to  search  for  gold  and  silver 
mines,  nor  to  overrun  vast  regions  and  cement,  with  the  blood 
of  exterminated  nations,  the  dominion  of  some  potentate  ambi- 
tious of  reigning  over  a  waste  at  the  distance  of  five  thousand 
miles  from  his  capital — but  to  plunge  into  the  depths  of  an  un- 
trodden wilderness,  covered  with  swamps,  breathing  pestilence, 
yielding  the  bare  necessaries  of  life  only  to  the  swTeat  of  labor — 
because  in  its  dreary  solitudes  they  could  commune  with  their 
God  ! — because,  amidst  its  savage  desolation,  they  could  pour  out 
the  feelings  of  gratitude  and  adoration  with  which  their  hearts 
were  filled  and  which  they  could  not  utter  in  the  country  of 
Fenelon  and  Pascal,  without  being  hunted  down  like  wild 
beasts  !  They  were  the  austere  and  gloomy  Puritans  of  Eng- 
land— the  stern  and  fanatic  followers  of  Pym  and  Hollis  and 
Hampden — who  had  been  republicans  even  in  Europe,  and  had 
quitted  Europe  because  it  was  unworthy  of  a  Republic — those 
men  to  whom,  according  to  the  very  probable  opinion  of  the 
historian  Hume,  England  herself  is  altogether  indebted  for  what 
has  made  her,  in  these  Intter  ages,  the  wonder  of  the  world — the 
democratic  part  of  her  constitution.  It  was  these  heroes  and 
tried  champions  of  religious  liberty — who  looked  upon  the  riches 
and  honors  of  this  world  as  dust  and  ashes  in  comparison  of  the 
principles  upon  which  they  built  their  steadfast  faith — who  not 
only  loved  liberty  as  something  desirable  in  itself  and  essential 
to  the  dignity  of  human  nature,  but  regarded  it  as  a  solemn  duty, 
to  free  themselves  from  every  species  of  restraint  that  was  in- 
compatible with  the  fullest  rights  of  conscience— who,  possessing 
all  that  devotedness  and  elevation  of  character,  so  natural  to  minds 
nursed  in  the  habitual  contemplation  of  such  subjects  and  penetra- 
ted with  their  majesty  and  importance,  had  learned  in  the  sublime 
language  of  Racine,  "to  fear  God,  and  to  know  no  other  fear" — 
it  was  such  men  as  these,  together  with  the  unfortunate,  the  per- 
secuted, the  adventurous,  the  bold,  the  aspiring  of  all  climes  and 
conditions,  congregated  and  confounded  in  one  vast  asylum,  and 


262  CHARACTERISTICS  OF  THE 

exercised,  by  the  hardships  incident  to  the  colonization  of  a  new 
country,  with  a  sort  of  Spartan  discipline — that  laid  the  founda- 
tion of  those  flourishing  commonwealths,  whose  first  united 
efforts  are  the  subject  of  this  commemoration.  Is  it  wonderful 
that  a  nation,  composed  of  such  elements  and  accustomed,  too,  to 
go  on  from  one  reform  of  abuses  to  another  (for  it  is  very  im- 
portant to  observe  that  the  whole  history  of  the  colonies  is  a 
history  of  successive  revolutions  in  their  municipal  government 
and  administration,  and  it  is  only  by  a  figure  of  speech  that  we 
confine  that  term  exclusively  to  the  declaration  of  independence) 
should  have  shown  themselves,  at  once,  so  sensitive  and  so  de- 
termined, in  a  contest  in  which  their  rights  were  so  seriously 
concerned  ? 

But,  although  the  situation  of  the  country  and  the  peculiar 
character  of  the  people,  go  very  far  to  explain  the  phenomenon 
I  have  noticed,  it  might  be  shewn — if  either  the  limits  to  which 
1  am  confined,  or  the  nature  of  this  address,  would  permit  me  to 
enter  into  one  of  the  most  curious  speculations  in  the  history  of 
the  human  mind — that  it  is  not  unconnected  with  causes  of  a 
more  general  nature — that  a  most  surprising  revolution  has  taken 
place  in  the  whole  structure  of  society — and  that  nothing,  there- 
fore, can  be  more  superficial  than  to  reason  from  what  are  called 
the  analogies  of  former  republics  to  the  condition  and  prospects 
of  our  own.  It  is,  of  course,  difficult  to  convey  an  adequate  idea 
of  so  complicated  a  subject  in  a  single  hint — but  I  cannot  refrain 
from  observing,  that  the  difference  seems  chiefly  to  consist  in  the 
habits  of  abstraction  and  reflection  which  have  prevailed  so  much 
more  for  a  century  or  two  past,  than  they  ever  did  at  any  former 
period,  and  in  the  consequent  attachment  to  principles  and  laws, 
as  if  they  were  something  tangible  and  personified — just  as,  in 
religion,  the  worship  of  images,  of  sensible  representations  of  the 
Deity,  which  is  of  the  very  essence  of  the  mythologies  of  early 
ages  and  the  faith  of  simple  minds,  is  utterly  rejected  by  the 
more  severe  and  spiritual,  but  not  less  rapturous  devotion  of  a 
more  philosophic  era. 

But  another  most  fortunate  and  striking  peculiarity  of  the  Re- 
volution we  are  celebrating  is  that  it  occurred  in  a  New  World. 

The  importance  that  ought  to  be  attached  to  this  circumstance 
will  be  obvious  to  every  one  who  will  reflect,  for  a  moment,  upon 
the  miracles  which  are  exhibiting  in  the  settlement  of  this  coun- 
try and  the  increase  of  its  population.  Behold  how  the  pomoe- 
rium  of  the  republic  advances  in  the  wilderness  of  the  West ! 
See  how  empires  are  starting  up  into  being,  in  periods  of  time, 
shorter  even  than  the  interval  between  infancy  and  manhood  in 
the  span  allotted  to  the  individuals  that  compose  them  !  Con- 
template the  peaceful  triumphs  of  industry — the  rapid  progress 
of  cultivation — the  diffusion  of  knowledge — the  growth  of  popu- 


AMERICAN  REVOLUTION.  263 

lous  cities,  with  all  the  arts  that  embellish  life,  and  soften  while 
they  exalt  the  character  of  man — and  think  of  the  countless 
multitudes  that  are  springing  up  to  inherit  these  blessings  !  The 
three  millions  by  whom  our  independence  was  achieved,  less  than 
half  a  century  ago,  are  already  grown  to  ten.,  which  in  the  course 
of  another  half  century  will  have  swelled  up  to  fifty ;  and  so  on, 
with  a  continually  accelerated  progress,  until,  at  no  distant  day, 
the  language  of  Milion  shall  be  spoken  from  shore  to  shore, 
over  the  vastest  portion  of  the  earth's  surface  that  was  ever  in- 
habited by  a  race  worthy  of  speaking  a  language  consecrated  to 
Liberty. 

Now — to  feel  how  deep  an  interest  this  circumstance  is  fitted 
to  throw  into  the  story  of  the  Revolution — let  us  imagine  a  spec- 
tator of  the  battle  of  Bunker's  Hill— or  let  us  rather  suppose  an 
(ic/or,  in  that  greatest  and  proudest  of  days,  to  have  turned  his 
thoughts  upon  the  future,  which  we  see  present  and  realized. 
Would  he  not,  think  ye,  have  trembled  at  the  awful  responsibi- 
lity of  his  situation?  Would  he  not  have  been  overwhelmed 
with  the  unbounded  anticipation  ?  It  depends  upon  his  courage 
and  conduct,  and  upon  the  strength  of  his  right  arm,  whether, 
not  his  descendants  only  not  some  small  tract  of  country  about 
his  own  fireside — not  Massachusetts  alone— No  !  nor  all  that 
shall  inherit  it  in  the  ages  that  arc  to  come — shall  be  governed 
by  satraps  and  viceroys,  or  as  reason  and  nature  dictate  that  they 
should  be — but  whether,  a  republic,  embracing  upwards  of 
twenty  distinct  and  great  empires,  shall  exist  or  not — whether  a 
host,  worthy  to  combat  and  to  conquer  with  Jackson,  shall  issue 
from  the  yet  unviolatcd  forests  of  Kentucky  and  Tennessee,  to 
spurn  from  New-Orleans  the  very  foe,  whose  vengeance  he  now 
dares,  for  the  first  time,  to  encounter  in  the  field,  when  that  foe 
shall  be  crowned  with  yet  prouder  laurels,  and  shall  come  in 
more  terrible  might — whether  the  banks  of  the  great  lakes  shall 
echo  to  the  accents  of  liberty,  and  the  Missouri  and  the  Missis- 
sippi roll  through  the  inheritance  of  freemen  ! 

But  there  is  yet  another  point  of  view,  in  which  the  circum- 
stance of  the  Revolution  occurring  in  a  new  country  cannot 
fail  to  strike  you  as  peculiarly  important.  It  gave  our  fathers, 
who  were  great  reformers,  an  opportunity  of  purifying  the  foun- 
tains of  society — of  forming  the  character  and  controlling,  in 
some  degree,  and  directing  the  destinies  of  the  infant  common- 
wealth, by  such  principles  as  philosophy  and  experience  had 
shewn  to  be  best,  although  they  had  no  where  else  been  fully 
admitted  in  practice.  They  had  no  inveterate  prejudices  to  en- 
counter here — there  was  no  inheritance  of  abuses  come  down 
from  remote  ages — they  were  no  grievances  established  by  cus- 
tom— no  corruptions  sanctified  by  their  antiquity.  They  were 
not  afraid  to  correct  a  defect  in  one  part,  lest  it  should  derange 


264  CHARACTERISTICS  OF  THE 

every  thing  that  was  connected  with  it — to  administer  a  mild 
and  salutary  remedy,  lest  the  constitution  should  sink  under 
it — to  remove  a  superflous  buttress,  or  unseemly  scaffolding, 
lest  the  whole  edifice  should  be  loosened  and  convulsed  to  its 
foundation.  In  a  word,  they  adopted  amendments  in  their  poli- 
tical institutions,  just  as  they  would  have  received  improvements 
in  agriculture  and  the  mechanical  arts — and  while  they  made  no 
change  for  the  sake  of  change,  and  were  remarkable  for  their 
entire  exemption  from  that  perverse  enthusiasm,  which  has  de- 
feated more  than  one  effort  to  do  good,  by  aiming  to  do  too 
much,  they  hesitated  not  to  act  upon  many  maxims  of  govern- 
ment which  had  been  regarded,  until  then,  as  altogether  vision- 
ary— to  reduce  to  practice,  as  they  have  done  with  triumphant 
success,  many  projects  of  amelioration,  that  had  been  classed,  by 
common  consent,  among  the  chimaeras  and  imaginations  of  spe- 
culative minds.  Thus,  it  had  been  taught,  in  almost  every 
school  of  political  philosophy,  that  democracy  could  exist  only 
within  a  very  narrow  compass — and,  but  a  few  years  before  the 
Declaration  of  independence,  an  illustrious  writer*  expresses  a 
doubt,  whether  a  universal  toleration  of  religions  would  ever  be- 
come the  standing  policy  of  a  great  empire.  Now,  what  would 
the  simplest  rustic  in  the  United  States  say,  if  he  were  told  that 
grave  and  wise  men  had  pronounced  the  state  of  society,  in 
which  we  have  been  living  for  fifty  years,  to  be  altogether  imagi- 
nary and  impossible. 

Voltaire  remarks  of  the  discoveries  of  Columbus  that  all 
that  was  great  and  imposing  in  the  eyes  of  men  seemed  to  dis- 
appear before  this  species  of  new  creation.  The  remark  is  stri- 
king, and  might,  I  have  sometimes  thought,  be  applied  to  the 
equally  bold  and  successful  adventures  of  our  fathers  in  the  sci- 
ence of  political  society.  The  first  voyage  across  the  unex- 
plored, and,  as  it  was  then  thought,  illimitable  and  shoreless  deep, 
was  scarcely  further  removed  from  the  ignoble  coasting  of  the 
iEgean  Sea,  than  the  formation  of  the  constitution  under  which 
we  live  was  from  all  that  senates  and  lawgivers  had  before  done 
in  that  kind — and  it  is,  perhaps,  not  too  fanciful  to  say,  that  the 
discovery  of  America  has  in  this,  as  in  some  other  respects,  en- 
larged the  boundaries  of  the  moral  world,  as  much  as  it  did 
those  of  the  natural  world. 

It  is  owing,  then,  to  these  circumstances  that  we  find  our- 
selves in  a  situation  so  novel  and  peculiar — so  entirely  unlike 
any  of  the  antiquated  and  corrupt  systems  of  the  old  world — so 
peaceful,  so  prosperous,  so  full  of  high  hope,  and  unparalleled 
progression,  and  triumphant  success.  It  looks  almost  like  a  spe- 
cial providence  that  this  continent  was  not  revealed  to  mankind 
until  Europe  was  highly  enlightened.     It  was  then  peopled,  not 

*  Adam  Smith. 


AMERICAN  REVOLUTION.  265 

by  her  outcasts  (as  the  first  settlers  have  been  sometimes  called) 
but  by  men  who  were  in  more  respects  than  one,  the  elect  of 
the  earth — circumstances  favoured  them  in  their  new  abode — 
every  germ  of  excellence  and  improvement  was  fully  developed 
and  expanded — all  the  vices  and  redundances  and  defects,  pro- 
duced, by  accidental  circumstances,  in  the  institutions  of  older 
countries,  were  corrected  and  removed — the  human  race  began 
a  new  career  in  a  new  universe,  realizing  the  celebrated  and 
prophetic  lines  of  Virgil's  Pollio — 

Novus  ab  integro  soeclorum  nascitur  ordo,  &c; 

or,  to  borrow  a  most  noble  passage  from  one  of  the  prose  com- 
positions of  the  first  of  poets  and  the  first  of  men — the  language 
in  which  Milton  himself  has  uttered  a  vision,  inspired  by  his 
own  holy  zeal  for  social  improvement,  and  the  liberties  of  man- 
kind— "methinks  I  see  in  my  mind — a  noble  and  puissant  nation, 
rousing  herself  like  a  strong  man  after  sleep,  and  shaking"  her  in- 
vincible locks — methinks  I  see  her  as  an  eagle,  mewing  her 
mighty  youth  and  kindling  her  undazzled  eyes  at  the  full  mid- 
day beam,  purging  and  unsealing  her  long  abused  sight  at  the 
fountain  itself  of  heavenly  radiance — while  the  whole  noise  of 
timorous  and  flocking  birds,  with  those  also  that  love  the  twi- 
light, flutter  about  amazed  at  what  she  means. 

Such  was  that  memorable  epoch  in  the  history  of  man,  the 
Declaration  of  American  Independence — such  were  the  triumphs 
of  the  heroes  and  sages  of  '76 — such  were  the  principles  upon 
which  they  acted — such  was  the  inheritance  they  bequeathed  to 
us — such  the  example  they  set  to  the  world.  And,  upon  such 
an  occasion — while  we  are  celebrating  so  great  a  jubilee  of 
national  independence  and  happiness — should  we — can  we  be 
indifferent  about  the  progress  of  those  principles,  and  the  influ- 
ence of  that  venerable  example?  Can  we  look,  without  the 
deepest  concern,  upon  the  extraordinary  scene  that  is  acting  in 
Europe?  Can  we  witness,  without  the  strongest  feelings  of 
scorn  and  detestation,  that  conspiracy  of  a  few  insolent  men 
against  the  liberties  and  improvement  of  the  whole  species,  the 
Holy  Alliance?  And  can  we  reflect,  without  shame  and  sor- 
row, that  those  who  conquered  at  Lodi  and  Marengo,  are  cower- 
ing and  submissive  under  such  a  yoke — and  that  the  swords, 
which  have  so  often  flashed  in  the  blaze  of  battle,  where  empires 
were  at  stake,  and  kings  were  pale  with  fear,  now  sleep  in  their 
inglorious  scabbards — and  that  the  bosoms  which,  but  yesterday, 
beat  high  in  the  exultation  of  glory  and  conquest,  are  brooding 
with  impotent  anguish  and  "wordless  ire"  over  wrongs  that 
cannot  awaken  their  courage — and  oh  !  can  we  think,  without, 
from  the  bottom  of  our  hearts,  imprecating  discomfiture  and 
vol.  i. — 34 


260  I   1IARACTERISTICS  OF  THE 

utter  ruin  upon  those  audacious  usurpers,  that  au  army  of 
Frenchmen  has  been  marched  over  the  Pyrennees — a  slavish 
instrument  of  dishonor  and  ruin — to  blast  there  the  very  best 
fruits  which  their  own  high  example  has  yet  produced — and 
that  a  spirit,  worthy  of  the  ancient  freedom  ot  Arragon  and 
the  hereditary  pride  of  Castile — that  the  spirit  of  that  noble 
people  that  dared  to  resist  and  to  revenge,  when  these  mighty 
men  were  happy  to  fawn,  and  proud  if  they  were  not  trampled 
upon — that  a  spirit,  of  which  the  heroic  elevation  is  equalled 
only  by  its  innocence  and  honesty — should,  in  the  age  in  which 
we  live,  be  made  the  object  of  a  crusade,  a  thousand  times  more 
hateful  and  pernicious,  than  ever  disgraced  the  ignorance  and 
fanaticism  of  the  darkest  times!  And  when  is  it  that  these 
conspirators  against  mankind  are  pouring  their  myrmidons  into 
Spain  ?  At  the  very  moment  when  they  are  pursuing,  with 
respect  to  Greece,  a  policy  so  totally — and,  were  it  not  an  evi- 
dence of  reckless  consistency  in  an  evil  scheme,  I  should  add, 
so  astonishingly  different — when  they  have  been  utterly  deaf  to 
the  voice  of  patriotism  and  valour — of  kindred  sympathies,  and 
a  common  religion,  imploring  their  assistance  from  the  heights 
that  look  over  Thermopylae — when  they  have  renounced  their 
connection  with  the  land  of  Homer  andLvcuRGUs  and  Sopho- 
cles and  Plato — with  the  school  to  which  modern  genius  is 
indebted,  for  the  elements  of  every  art  and  every  science — with 
the  great  mother  country  of  all  freedom  and  civilization — 
because,  I  suppose,  she  too  is  guilty  of  the  inexpiable  crime  of 
rebellion  ! — that  is  to  say,  because  she  has,  at  length,  risen 
up  as  with  the  resuscitated  might  of  Marathon  and  Salamis, 
against  the  brutal  barbarism  by  which  she  has  been,  for  so  many 
ages,  degraded  and  polluted  and  trodden  under  foot !  But  ho- 
nour to  the  valour  of  the  free!  Honour  and  glory  to  those  who 
dare  to  be  men  !  Greece  has  again  done  wonders,  and  Europe 
will  again  be  convulsed,  until  every  throne  in  it,  that  is  not 
supported  by  the  love  of  the  people,  shall  be  shaken  down  and 
buried  in  the  dust.  They  are  greatly  deceived — at  least  I  fondly 
think  so — who  imagine  that  the  revolutionary  spirit,  as  it  is 
called,  has  been  quelled  either  by  battle  or  strict  league — either 
at  Waterloo,  or  Vienna.  Despotism  is,  indeed,  mighty  at  pre- 
sent— mighty  in  its  own  resources — still  more  mighty,  in  what 
gives  strength  to  all  usurpers,  the  fears  and  divisions  and  weak- 
ness of  the  people.  But  it  is  at  war  with  the  eternal  nature  of 
things,  and  its  triumph  cannot  be  enduring.  Let  it  revel  in  the 
drunkenness  of  its  recent  successes !  Let  it  soothe  itself  with 
the  calm  that  reigns  for  a  moment !  It  will  soon  find  that  there 
is  something  ominous  and  fearful  in  it— that  it  is  the  pause  of 
the  elements,  when  they  are  gathering  strength  and  fury  for 


AMERICAN  REVOLUTION.  267 

some  sweeping  desolation — the  gloomy,  portentous,  appalling 
stillness,  that  is  wont  to  precede  the  terrors  of  the  earthquake ! 

"Pond,  impious  men  !  think  ye  yon  sanguine  cloud 
Raised  by  your  breath,  hath  quenched  the  orb  of  day? 
To-morrow  he  repairs  his  golden  flood, 
And  warms  the  nations  with  redoubled  ray." 

I  have,  already,  trespassed  so  much  upon  your  patience,  that 
F  find  myself  constrained  to  omit,  entirely,  a  topic  upon  which 
1  should  otherwise  have  insisted  with  peculiar  satisfaction — and 
which  ought  to  be  exhibited  in  the  most  striking  lights  to  the 
youth  of  this  country,  and  to  be  impressed  upon  their  minds, 
and  recommended  to  the  enthusiasm  of  their  hearts,  by  every  va- 
riety of  argument  and  illustration — I  mean. the  fact  that  the 
name  of  Republic  is  inscribed  upon  the  most  imperishable 
monuments  of  the  species,  and  the  probability  that  it  will  con- 
tinue to  be  associated,  as  it  has  been  in  all  past  ages,  with  what- 
ever is  heroic  in  character,  and  sublime  in  genius,  and  elegant 
and  brilliant  in  the  cultivation  of  arts  and  letters.  It  would  not 
have  been  difficult  to  prove  that  the  base  hirelings  who,  in  this 
age  of  legitimacy  and  downfall,  have  so  industriously  inculcated 
a  contrary  doctrine,  have  been  compelled  to  falsify  history  and 
abuse  reason.  I  might  have  "called  up  antiquity  from  the  old 
schools  of  Greece"  to  shew  that  these  apostles  of  despotism 
would  have  passed  at  Athens  for  barbarians  and  slaves.  I 
might  have  asked  triumphantly,  what  land  had  even  been  vi- 
sited with  the  influences  of  liberty,  that  did  not  flourish  like  the 
Spring?  What  people  had  ever  worshipped  at  her  altars,  with- 
out kindling  with  a  loftier  spirit  and  putting  forth  more  noble 
energies  ?  Where  she  had  ever  acted,  that  her  deeds  had  not 
been  heroic  ?  Where  she  had  ever  spoken,  that  her  eloquence 
had  not  been  triumphant  and  sublime?  It  might  have  been 
demonstrated  that  a  state  of  society  in  which  nothing  is  obtain- 
ed by  patronage — nothing  is  yielded  to  the  accidents  of  birth 
and  fortune — where  those  who  are  already  distinguished,  must 
exert  themselves  lest  they  be  speedily  eclipsed  by  their  inferiors, 
and  these  inferiors  are,  by  every  motive,  stimulated  to  exert 
themselves  that  they  may  become  distinguished — and  where, 
the  lists  being  open  to  the  whole  world,  without  any  partiality 
or  exclusion,  the  champion  who  bears  off  the  prize,  must  have 
tasked  his  powers  to  the  very  uttermost,  and  proved  himself  the 
first  of  a  thousand  competitors — is  necessarily  more  favourable 
to  a  bold,  vigorous  and  manly  way  of  thinking  and  acting,  than 
any  other.  I  should  have  asked  with  Longinus — who  but  a 
Republican  could  have  spoken  the  philippics  of  Demosthenes? 
and  what  has  the  patronage  of  despotism  ever  done  to  be  com- 
pared with  the  spontaneous  productions  of  the  Attic,  the  Roman 
and  the  Tuscan  muse  ? 


268  CHARACTERISTICS  OF  THE 

With  respect  to  ourselves,  who  have  been  so  systematically 
vilified  by  British  critics — if  any  answer  were  expected  to  be 
given  to  their  shallow  and  vulgar  sophistry,  and  there  was  not  a 
sufficient  practical  refutation  of  it,  in  the  undoubted  success  of 
some  of  the  artists  and  writers  that  are  springing  up  in  our  own 
times — we  should  be  perfectly  safe,  in  resting,  upon  the  opera- 
tion of  general  causes  and  the  whole  analogy  of  history,  our  an- 
ticipation of  the  proudest  success,  in  all  the  pursuits  of  a  high 
and  honorable  ambition.  That  living,  as  we  do,  in  the  midst  of 
a  forest,  we  have  been  principally  engaged  in  felling  and  im- 
proving it — and  that  those  arts,  which  suppose  wealth  and  leisure 
and  a  crowded  population,  are  not  yet  so  flourishing  amongst  us 
as  they  will  be  in  the  course  of  a  century  or  two,  is  so  much  a 
matter  of  course,  that  instead  of  exciting  wonder  and  disgust, 
one  is  only  surprised  how  it  should  even  have  attracted  notice — 
but  the  question,  whether  we  are  destitute  of  genius  and  sensi- 
bility and  loftiness  of  character,  and  all  the  aspirings  that  prompt 
to  illustrious  achievements,  and  all  the  elements  of  national 
greatness  and  glory,  is  quite  a  distinct  thing — and  we  may  ap- 
peal, with  confidence,  to  what  we  have  done  and  to  what  we  are, 
to  the  Revolution  we  are  this  day  celebrating,  to  the  career  we 
have  since  run,  to  our  recent  exploits  upon  the  flood  and  in  the 
field,  to  the  skill  of  our  diplomacy,  to  the  comprehensive  views 
and  undoubted  abilities  of  our  statesmen,  to  the  virtues  and 
prosperity  of  our  people,  to  the  exhibition  on  every  occasion  of 
all  the  talent  called  for  by  its  exigencies  and  admitted  by  its  na- 
ture— nay,  to  the  very  hatred — the  vehement  and  irrepressible 
hatred,  with  which  these  revilers  themselves  have  so  abundantly 
honored  us — to  shew  that  nothing  can  be  more  preposterous 
than  the  contempt,  with  which  they  have  sometimes  affected  to 
speak  .of.  us. 

And,  were  there  no  other  argument,  as  there  are  many,  to 
prove  that  the  character  of  the  nation  is  altogether  worthy  of  its 
high  destinies,  would  it  not  be  enough  to  say  that  we  live  under 
a  form  of  government  and  in  a  state  of  society,  to  which  the 
world  has  never  yet  exhibited  a  parallel?  Is  it  then  nothing  to 
be  free  ?  How  many  nations,  in  the  whole  annals  of  human 
kind,  have  proved  themselves  worthy  of  being  so  ?  Is  it  nothing 
that  we  are  Republicans?  Were  all  men  as  enlightened,  as 
brave,  as  proud  as  they  ought  to  be,  would  they  suffer  them- 
selves to  be  insulted  with  any  other  title?  Is  it  nothing,  that  so 
many  independent  sovereignties  should  be  held  together  in  such 
a  confederacy  as  ours  ?  What  does  history  teach  us  of  the  dif- 
ficulty of  instituting  and  maintaining  such  a  polity,  and  of  the 
glory  that,  of  consequence,  ought  to  be  given  to  those  who  enjoy 
its  advantages  in  so  much  perfection,  and  on  so  grand  a  scale  I 
For,  can  any  thing  be  more  striking  and  sublime,  than  the  idea 


AMERICAN  REVOLUTION.  269 

of  an  imperial  republic — spreading  over  an  extent  of  terri- 
tory, more  immense  than  the  empire  of  the  Caesars,  in  the  accu- 
mulated conquests  of  a  thousand  years — without  praefects  or 
proconsuls  or  publicans — founded  in  the  maxims  of  common 
sense — employing  within  itself  no  arms,  but  those  of  reason — 
and  known  to  its  subjects  only  by  the  blessings  it  bestows  or 
perpetuates — yet,  capable  of  directing,  against  a  foreign  foe,  all 
the  energies  of  a  military  despotism — a  Republic,  in  which  men 
are  completely  insignificant,  and  principles  and  laws  exercise, 
throughout  its  vast  dominion,  a  peaceful  and  irresistible  sway — 
blending  in  one  divine  harmony  such  various  habits  and  conflict- 
ing opinions — and  mingling  in  our  institutions  the  light  of  phi- 
losophy with  all  that  is  dazzling  in  the  associations  of  heroic 
achievement  and  extended  domination,  and  deep  seated  and  for- 
midable power ! 

To  conclude :  Our  institutions  have  sprung  up  naturally  in 
the  progress  of  society.  They  will  flourish  and  decay  with 
those  improvements  of  which  they  were  the  fruit — they  will 
grow  with  the  growth  of  knowledge — they  will  strengthen  with 
the  strength  of  reason — their  influence  will  be  extended  by  every 
advance  of  true  civilization — every  thing  that  has  a  tendency  to 
make  man  wiser  and  better,  will  confirm  and  improve  and  adorn 
them.  If  humanity  was  not  endowed,  in  vain,  with  such  noble 
faculties,  many  ages  of  glory  and  freedom  are  before  us — many 
nations  shall  learn,  from  our  example,  how  to  be  free  and  great. 
The  fortunes  of  the  species,  are  thus,  in  some  degree,  identified 
with  those  of  the  republic — and  if  our  experiment  fail,  there 
is  no  hope  for  man  on  this  side  of  the  grave. 

And  now,  my  friends  !  Let  us  be  proud  that  we  are  free — let 
us  exult  in  a  distinction  as  singular  as  it  is  honorable.  Our 
country  exhibits  the  last  specimen  of  that  form  of  government, 
which  has  done  so  much  for  the  dignity  and  happiness  of  man. 
It  stands  alone — it  is  surrounded  with  ruins.  In  the  language 
of  Byron — ■ 

The  name  of  Commonwealth,  is  past  and  gone 
O'er  the  three  fractions  of  the  groaning  globe. 

But,  painful  as  is  that  reflection,  we  may  be  allowed  to  repeat, 
with  honest  triumph,  the  lines  which  follow — to  proclaim  to  the 
world,  that 

"Still  one  great  clime. 
Whose  vigorous  offspring  by  dividing  ocean 
Are  kept  apart,  and  nursed  in  the  devotion 
Of  freedom,  which  their  fathers  fought  for  and 
Bequeathed — a  heritage  of  heart  and  hand, 
And  proud  distinction  from  each  other  land- 
Still  one  great  clime,  in  full  and  free  defence 
Yet  rears  her  crest — unconquered  and  sublime — 
Above  the  far  Atlantic." 


SPEECH  BEFORE  THE  UNION  PARTY. 


Speech  delivered  before   the  Union  and   State  Rights  Party,  July  4th.  1831. 
Charleston.     S.  C. 

Mr.  Legar£  said  he  was  obliged  to  the  meeting  for  the  op- 
portunity offered  him,  according  to  an  established  usage,  of  say- 
ing what  he  thought  and  felt  upon  the  momentous  occasion,  (for 
so  it  seemed  to  him)  that  had  brought  them  together,  and  would 
gladly  avail  himself  of  it  to  speak  very  much  at  length,  were  it 
not  physically  impossible  to  make  himself  be  heard  in  so  vast  an 
assemblage.  He  thought  it  due  to  himself  and  to  those  who  were 
of  the  same  way  of  thinking,  that  their  sentiments  should  be 
fairly  and  fully  expressed — for  he  had  no  doubt  that  they  were 
such  as  would  meet  the  hearty  concurrence  of  a  great  majority 
of  the  people  of  South-Carolina.  He  felt  the  less  regret,  how- 
ever, at  the  self-denial  he  was  obliged  to  practice,  because  the 
able  speech  of  the  Orator  of  the  day  had  maintained  the  doc- 
trines which  he  (Mr.  L.)  professed,  and  for  which,  as  the  repre- 
sentative of  the  people  of  Charleston,  he  had  strenuously,  and, 
he  flattered  himself  not  unsuccessfully,  contended  in  the  Legis- 
lature of  the  State  during  several  successive  sessions.  These 
doctrines  they  had  heard  expounded  and  enforced,  that  morning, 
by  a  man  and  in  a  manner  worthy  of  the  proudest  days  of  this 
proud  city,  nor  did  he  think  that  any  one  could  have  listened  to 
that  discourse,  without  being  the  wiser  and  better  for  it. 

It  has  been  frequently  thrown  out  of  late,  in  the  language  of 
complaint  and  censure,  (said  Mr.  L.)  and  on  a  recent  occasion, 
very  emphatically,  by  a  gentleman  for  whom  on  every  account, 
I  entertain  the  profoundest  respect,  that  there  is  a  certain  party 
among  us,  who  seem  much  more  intent  upon  "correcting  the 
errors  of  some  of  our  Statesmen"  (as  they  are  said  modestly  to 
express  it)  than  upon  putting  their  shoulders  to  the  wheel  along 
with  the  rest  of  their  fellow-citizens,  in  an  honest  and  manly  ef- 
fort to  relieve  the  State  from  the  burdens  under  which  it  is 
thought  to  be  sinking — in  plain  English  that  their  pretended 
hostility  to  the  tariff  acts  is  all  a  sham.  Sir,  this  would  be  a 
severe  rebuke,  if  it  were  deserved.  I  for  one  should  be  very 
sorry  to  think  that  the  part  I  am  taking  in  the  proceedings  of  this 
day  were  open  to  that  construction.  God  knows  it  was  with 
extreme  reluctance  that  I  made  up  my  mind  to  take  this  step. 


SPEECH  BEFORE  THE  UNION  PARTY.  271 

But  what  was  I  to  do  ?  What  alternative  has  been  left  us  by 
those  who  have  the  constructive  majority  of  the  State,  that  is  to 
say,  the  majority  of  the  Legislature  at  their  back  ?  They  have 
chosen  to  narrow  down  the  whole  controversy  concerning  the 
American  system  to  a  single  point.  They  have  set  up  an  issue 
and  demand  a  categorical  expression  of  opinion  upon  the  expe- 
diency of  immediately  interposing  the  sovereign  power  of  the 
State,  to  prevent  the  execution  of  the  tariff  law.  That  is  to 
say,  according  to  Mr.  M'Duffie's  reading,  (the  only  sensible 
reading)  of  that  rather  ambiguous  phrase,  to  raise  the  standard 
of  the  State,  and  to  summon  her  subjects,  by  the  allegiance 
which  they  owe  to  her,  to  gather  around  it  in  order  to  resist  a 
law  of  Congress.  Sir,  if  I  do  not  misunderstand  all  that  we 
have  recently  heard  from  men  in  high  places,  (and  if  I  do  mis- 
understand them,  it  is  not  because  I  have  not  most  anxiously 
and  patiently  examined  whatever  they  have  said  and  done)  this, 
and  this  alone,  is  the  question  now  before  us.  In  such  a  ques- 
tion all  minor  considerations  are  swallowed  up  and  lost.  Upon 
such  a  question,  no  man  can,  or  ought  to  be — no  man  in  the  face 
of  a  community,  excited  and  divided  as  this,  dare  be  neutral. 
It  is  propounded  to  us,  after  the  fashion  of  the  old  Roman  Sen- 
ate— you  who  think  thus,  go  thither — you  who  are  of  any  other 
opinion  stay  here.  The  country  calls  upon  every  individual, 
however  humble  he  may  be,  to  take  his  post  in  this  mighty  con- 
flict. Sir,  I  obey  that  paramount  command,  and  be  it  for  weal 
or  be  it  for  woe,  be  it  for  glory,  or  be  it  for  shame,  for  life  and  for 
death,  here  I  am. 

But,  Sir,  I  repeat  it,  I  should  most  deeply  regret  that  what  we 
are  now  doing  should  be  thought  to  give  any  countenance  to  any 
part  of  the  "American  System."  It  is  known,  I  believe,  to  every 
body  present,  from  various  publications  which  have  been  long 
before  the  community,  that  I  think  that  system  unconstitutional, 
unjust  and  inexpedient.  This  opinion  I  did  not  take  up  hastily, 
for  with  regard  to  the  tariff,  I,  in  common  with  every  body  else 
in  the  State,  once  thought  it  within  the  competency  of  Congress. 
But  more  mature  inquiry  has  resulted  in  a  change  of  my  opinion 
upon  that  subject,  and  although  I  dare  not  express  myself  so  con- 
fidently in  respect  to  it  as  it  is  the  habit  of  the  times  to  do,  I 
must  be  permitted  to  say,  that  I  am  more  and  more  strengthened 
in  that  conviction  by  every  day's  experience  and  reflection.  Sir, 
if  I  had  any  doubt  about  the  matter,  the  proceedings  of  this  day 
would  be  sufficient  to  dispel  it.  It  is  melancholy  to  think  of  the 
change  which  has  been  made  in  the  feelings  and  opinions  of 
some  of  the  best  and  ablest  men  among  us,  by  this  pernicious 
system — to  reflect  that  alienation  and  distrust,  nay,  in  some  in- 
stances, perhaps,  that  wrath  and  hostility  now  possess  those  bo- 
soms which  were  but  a  few  years  ago  warmed  with  the  loftiest 


272  SPEECH  BEFORE  THE  UNION  PARTY. 

and  the  holiest  enthusiasm  for  the  government  of  their  own  and 
their  father's  choice.  The  authors  of  this  policy  are  indirectly 
responsible  for  this  deplorable  state  of  things,  and  for  all  the  con- 
sequences that  may  grow  out  of  it.  They  have  been  guilty  of 
an  inexpiable  offence  against  their  country.  They  found  us  a 
united,  they  have  made  us  a  distracted  people.  They  found  the 
Union  of  these  States  an  object  of  fervent  love  and  religious  ve- 
neration;  they  have  made  even  its  utility  a  subject  of  contro- 
versy among  very  enlightened  men.  They  have  brought  us  not 
peace  but  a  sword.  It  is  owing  to  this  policy  that  the  govern- 
ment has  to  bear  the  blame  of  whatever  evils  befall  the  people, 
from  natural  or  accidental  causes — that  whether  our  misfortunes 
spring  from  the  barrenness  of  the  earth,  or  the  inclemency  of  the 
seasons,  or  the  revolutions  of  commerce,  or  a  defective  system  of 
domestic  and  rural  economy — or,  in  short,  from  any  other  source, 
they  are  all  indiscriminately  imputed  to  the  'tariff.  The  decay 
and  desolation  which  are  invading  many  parts  of  the  lower 
country — the  fall  in  the  price  of  our  great  staple  commodity — 
the  comparative  unproductiveness  of  slave  labor — are  confidently 
declared  to  be  the  effects  of  this  odious  and  tyrannical  monopoly. 
Sir,  firmly  convinced  as  I  am  that  there  is  no  sort  of  connection, 
(or  an  exceedingly  slight  one)  between  these  unquestionable  facts 
and  the  operation  of  the  tariff  law,  yet  I  do  not  wonder  at  the 
indignation  which  the  imposition  of  such  a  burthen  of  taxation 
has  excited  in  our  people  in  the  present  un prosperous  state  of 
their  affairs.  I  have  sympathized  and  do  sympathize  with  them 
too  deeply  to  rebuke  them  for  their  feelings,  however  improper  I 
deem  it  to  be  to  act  upon  such  feelings,  as  recklessly  as  some  of 
their  leaders  would  have  them  do. 

Sir,  it  is  not  only  as  a  Southern  man,  that  I  protest  against  the 
tariff  law.  The  doctrine  of  Free  Trade,  is  a  great  fundamen- 
tal doctrine  of  civilization.  The  world  must  come  to  it  at  last, 
if  the  visions  of  improvement  in  which  we  love  to  indulge  are 
ever  to  be  realized.  It  has  been  justly  remarked  that  most  of  the 
wars  which  have  for  the  last  two  centuries  desolated  Europe,  and 
stained  the  land  and  sea  with  blood,  originated  in  the  lust  of  colo- 
nial empire,  or  commercial  monopoly. — Great  nations  cannot  be 
held  together  under  a  united  Government  by  any  thing  short 
of  despotic  power,  if  any  one  part  of  a  country  is  to  be  arrayed 
against  another  in  a  perpetual  scramble  for  privilege  and  protec- 
tion, under  any  system  of  protection.  They  must  fall  to  pieces, 
and  if  the  same  blind  selfishness  and  rapacity  animate  the  frag- 
ments which  had  occasioned  the  disunion  of  the  whole,  there 
will  be  no  end  to  the  strife  of  conflicting  interests.  When  you 
add  to  the  calamities  of  public  wars  and  civil  dissensions,  the 
crimes  created  by  tyrannical  revenue  laws,  and  the  bloody  penal- 
ties  necessary  to   enforce  them,  the   injustice   done   to   many 


SPEECH  BEFORE  THE  UNION  PARTY.  273 

branches  of  industry,  to  promote  the  success  of  others,  the  pau- 
perism, the  misery,  the  discontent,  the  despair,  and  the  thousand 
social  disorders  which  such  a  violation  of  the  laws  of  nature 
never  fails  to  engender,  you  will  admit,  I  think,  that  the  cause 
of  Free  Trade  is  the  great  cause  of  human  improvement.  Sir, 
I  can  never  sufficiently  deplore  the  infatuation  which  has  brought 
such  a  scourge  upon  this  favored  land — which  has  entailed,  so  to 
speak,  the  curse  of  an  original  sin  upon  a  new  world,  and  upon 
the  continually  multiplying  millions  that  are  to  inhabit  it.  Most 
heartily  shall  I  co-operate  in  any  measure,  not  revolutionary,  to 
do  away  with  the  system  which  has  already  become  a  fountain 
of  bitter  waters  to  us — which  threatens  to  become  to  another 
generation  a  source  of  blood  and  tears — and  I  heartily  rejoice  at 
the  dawn  of  hope  which  has  opened  upon  us  in  the  proposed 
Convention  at  Philadelphia.  Not  that  I  am  sanguine  as  to  the 
immediate  result  of  such  a  meeting ;  but,  if  it  be  filled,  as  it 
ought  to  be,  with  leading  and  enlightened  men  from  all  parts  of 
the  country,  which  think  as  we  do  upon  this  great  subject,  it 
will  awaken  the  attention  of  the  people,  it  will  lead  to  general 
discussion,  it  will  give  scope,  if  I  may  so  express  it,  for  the  ope- 
ration of  those  momentous  truths  on  which  we  rely,  and  I  can- 
not, and  will  not  despair  of  the  Republic,  as  it  came  down  to  us 
from  the  most  venerable  band  of  sages  and  heroes  that  ever  laid 
the  foundation  of  a  great  empire,  until  I  become  satisfied  by 
much  better  evidence  than  any  I  have  yet  seen,  that  it  is  in  vain 
to  appeal  to  the  good  sense  and  kindly  feelings  of  the  American 
people.  Meanwhile,  to  the  measure  which  is  now  under  consi- 
deration, and  which,  by  whatever  name  it  may  be  called,  is,  in 
my  opinion,  essentially  revolutionary,  I  am,  as  I  ever  have  been, 
decidedly  opposed.  I  regarded  it,  when  it  was  first  mentioned 
in  1828,  as  an  ill-omened  and  disastrous  project — calculated  to 
divide  us  among  ourselves,  to  alienate  from  us  the  minds  of  our 
natural  allies  in  such  a  struggle,  the  agricultural  states  in  our 
neighborhood,  and  to  involve  us  in  difficulties  from  which  we 
should  not  be  able  to  retreat  without  dishonor,  and  in  which  we 
could  not  persevere  without  inevitable  and  irretrievable  ruin — I 
might  have  been  wrong,  but  I  acted  upon  deep  and  solemn  con- 
viction, and  I  thank  God,  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart,  for  being 
permitted  to  indulge  in  the  consoling  persuasion,  that  my  hum- 
ble labors  on  that  memorable  occasion  did  contribute  in  some 
degree  to  avert  these  calamities. 

Sir,  this  is  no  occasion  for  going  into  a  detailed  analysis  of 
the  doctrine  of  Nullification,  a  doctrine  which,  as  taught  in  "the 
Exposition,"  I  undertake  to  say  involves  just  as  many  paradoxes 
and  contradictions  as  there  are  topics  relied  on  to  maintain  it — 
but  I  cannot  refrain  from  presenting  a  single  view  of  it,  which 
is  of  itself  entirely  conclusive.  You  will  observe,  Mr.  President, 
vol.  i. — 35 


274  SPEECH  BEFORE  THE  UNION  PARTY. 

that  the  difference,  between  us  and  the  advocates  of  this  doctrine, 
is  not  as  to  the  question  how  far  a  State  is  bound  to  acquiesce  in 
an  unconstitutional  act  of  Congress ;  or  (which  is  the  same 
thing)  how  far  it  has  a  right  "to  interpose  to  arrest  the  progress" 
of  such  legislation.  We  admit  this  right  in  the  most  unquali- 
fied manner;  for,  if  the  law  be  unconstitutional,  it  is  no  law  at 
all.  So  far  there  is  no  difference  and  can  be  no  difference  be- 
tween us.  The  question  is  not  as  to  the  right,  nor  even  as  to 
the  remedy,  but  as  to  what  shall  ensue  upon  the  exercise  of  the 
right)  or  the  application  of  the  remedy.  The  advocates  of  Nul- 
lification insist  upon  it,  that  the  interference  of  the  States  in  such 
a  case  would  be  a  peaceful  act — we  say  it  would  be,  even  upon 
their  own  showing,  an  act  of  war — a  revolutionary  measure — a 
remedy  derived  from  a  source  above  all  law,  and  an  authority 
which  bows  to  no  arbiter  but  the  sword — and  this  is  susceptible 
of  as  rigorous  demonstration  as  any  point  within  the  whole  com- 
pass of  public  law. 

For  the  sake  of  argument,  I  concede  all  that  the  most  extra- 
vagant writers  in  our  newspapers  have  ever  assumed,  and  a 
great  deal  more  than  the  most  able  of  them  can  prove — I  will 
grant  that  the  government  of. the  United  States  is  no  government 
at  all — that  it  is  not  only  a  compact  between  independent  States, 
but  that  it  is  a  compact  of  no  peculiar  solemnity  or  efficacy — 
conveying  no  powers  not  usually  granted  by  international  trea- 
ties, establishing  no  intimate  relations  between  the  different  parts 
of  the  country,  not  subjecting  the  citizen,  in  the  least,  to  the 
jurisdiction  of  the  Federal  Courts,  not  binding  upon  his  consci- 
ence, not  imposing  upon  him  the  obligations  of  allegiance,  not 
making  him  liable  in  any  case  to  the  penalties  of  treason.  I  will 
put  the  case  as  strongly  as  possible  for  the  advocates  of  the  doc- 
trine. I  will  suppose  that  this  constitution,  of  which  we  have 
been  boasting  so  much  for  near  half  a  century,  is  found  out  to 
be  a  league  between  foreign  powers,  and  that  every  question  that 
can  arise  under  it  is,  in  the  strictest  sense  of  the  word,  a  merely 
political  question.  What  then,  Sir?  Did  you  ever  hear  of  one 
party  to  a  league  having  a  right — not  to  judge  for  himself  of  its 
meaning,  mark  the  distinction — but — to  bind  the  other  party  by 
his  judgment  ?  I  admit  that  there  is  no  common  arbiter — that 
each  of  the  parties  is  to  judge  for  himself — does  that  mean  that 
he  shall  judge  for  the  others  too?  A  compact  between  States  is 
as  binding  as  a  compact  between  individuals — it  creates  what  is 
called  by  text  writers  "a  perfect  obligation" — there  is  no  doubt 
but  that  a  sovereignty  is  obliged  before  God  and  man  scrupu- 
lously to  fulfil  the  conditions  of  its  agreements.  But  sovereign- 
ties with  regard  to  each  other  are  in  a  state  of  nature — they  have 
no  common  superior  to  enforce  compliance  with  their  covenants, 
and  if  any  difference  arise  as  to  their  rights  and  liabilities  under 


SPEECH  BEFORE  THE  UNION  PARTY.  275 

them,  what  says  the  law  of  nature  and  nations  ?  Why  what  can 
it  say,  but  that  each  shall  do  as  it  pleases — or  that  force  shall 
decide  the  controversy?  Is  there  any  imaginable  alternative  be- 
tween the  law  and  the  sword,  between  the  judgment  of  some  re- 
gularly constituted  umpire,  chosen  before  hand  by  the  common 
consent  of  the  contracting  parties,  and  the  ultima  ratio  regum? 
Sir,  we  have  been  told  that  state  sovereignty  is  and  ought  to  be 
governed  by  nothing  but  its  own  "feelings  of  honorable  justice," 
— it  comes  up,  in  the  declamation  of  the  day,  to  the  description 
of  that  irascible,  imperious  and  reckless  hero,  whose  wrath  and 
the  woes  it  brought  upon  his  country  are  an  admirable  theme 
for  an  epic  or  a  tragic  song,  but  would  not,  I  suppose,  be  recom- 
mended as  the  very  highest  of  all  possible  examples  in  morality. 

Impiger,  iracundus,  inexorabilis,  acer, 

Jura  negat  sibi  nata,  nihil  non  arrogat  armis. 

Yet  strange  to  say,  the  very  men,  who  paint  to  us  the  sovereign- 
ty of  the  States  in  such  colors,  and  would  cavil  about  the  ninth 
part  of  a  hair  where  their  own  rights  and  interests  are  concerned, 
forget  entirely  that  there  are  any  other  parties  to  the  compact 
but  South-Carolina,  or  that  those  parties  have  any  right  to  exer- 
cise, or  any  interests  to  maintain  !  "We  have  a  right  to  judge 
for  ourselves,"  say  they,  "how  far  we  are  bound  by  the  Constitu- 
tion, or  how  far  we  shall  comply  with  it."  Grant  it.  But  what 
of  the  other  twenty-three  parties  ?  Are  they  bound  by  our  de- 
cision? Shall  they  not  think  for  themselves,  because  we  say 
that  an  act,  which  they  have  all  declared  (or  the  great  majority 
of  them)  to  be  within  the  meaning  of  the  treaty  and  binding 
upon  us,  is  not  so?  If  our  opinion  is  just  we  are  not  bound. 
Admit  it.  But  if  their's  is  just  we  are  bound.  Now  the  whole 
fallacy  of  the  argument  on  the  other  side  consists  in  coolly  taking 
for  granted  the  very  matter  in  dispute — in  blotting  out  this  if — 
in  denying  to  others  the  very  right  of  judging  which  we  claim 
for  ourselves — and  in  expecting  them,  exacting  it  of  them,  to  act 
upon  our  convictions  instead  of  their  own. 

Sir,  it  may  be  that  they  will  do  so.  Instances  upon  instances 
have  been  laboriously  compiled  of  late,  by  a  writer  in  one  of  the 
leading  journals  of  the  country,  to  show  how  often  the  Govern- 
ment has  been  forced,  right  or  wrong,  to  yield  to  the  resistance 
of  the  States.  I  shall  say  nothing  of  these  examples — except  that 
so?ne  of  them  have  never  been  mentioned  until  recently  but  with 
scorn  and  indignation.  But  I  maintain  that  not  one  of  them — 
no,  not  one — goes  to  show  that  the  other  parties  to  the  compact 
might  not,  if  they  had  been  so  minded,  have  rightfully  insisted 
upon  enforcing  their  construction  of  the  contract.  I  will  only 
remark,  as  to  Georgia  and  the  Cherokees,  that  as  that  State  was 
clearly  right  in  her  pretensions  from  first  to  last,  so  she  main- 


276  SPEECH  BEFORE  THE  UNION  PARTY. 

tained  her  rights  by  open  force,  and  made  no  scruple  about  pro- 
fessing to  do  so. 

Mr.  President,  the  argument  which  I  now  advance  is  too 
clear  for  controversy.  It  addresses  itself  to  the  common  sense 
of  mankind,  and  the  bare  stating  of  it  is  sufficient  to  show  how 
incongruous  and  absurd  the  doctrine  of  the  veto  is,  so  far  as  it 
rests  upon  general  reasonings,  and  the  law  of  nature — the  only 
law  acknowledged  by  sovereigns.  I3ut  if  any  authority  be 
wanted  to  confirm  it,  then  is  abundance  of  it  at  hand.  Look 
into  the  writings  of  publicists — they  are  full  of  it.  By  the  esta- 
blished law  of  nations,  each  party  construes  a  treaty  for  itself — 
but  then  it  allows  the  other  to  do  the  same,  and,  if  the  difference 
between  them  be  deemed  important  enough,  that  other  has  the 
option  either  of  rescinding  the  whole  treaty,  (in  the  case  before 
us,  putting  the  State  out  of  the  Union)  or  making  war  to  enforce 
it.  "If  one  of  the  allies  fails  in  his  engagements,  (says  Vattel,) 
the  other  may  constrain  him  to  fulfil  them  ;  this  is  the  right  de- 
rived from  a  perfect  promise.  But,  if  he  has  no  other  way  but 
that  of  arms  to  constrain  an  ally  to  keep  his  word,  it  is  some- 
times more  expedient  to  disengage  himself  from  his  promises 
and  break  the  treaty.  He  has  undoubtedly  a  right  to  do  this  ; 
having  promised  only  on  condition  that  his  ally  should  accom- 
plish, on  his  side,  every  thing  he  is  obliged  to  perform.  The 
ally,  offended  or  injured  in  what  relates  to  the  treaty,  may  then 
choose  either  to  oblige  the  perfidious  ally  to  fulfil  his  engage- 
ments, or  declare  the  treaty  broken  by  the  violation  of  it." — Vatt. 
Sec.  200.  This  civilian  then  proceeds  to  lay  down  the  rule, 
that  the  violation  of  one  article  of  the  treaty  is  a  violation  of  the 
whole.  He  admits  that  this  ought  not  to  be  rashly  done,  and 
says  that  the  sovereign  deeming  himself  agrieved  "is  permitted 
to  threaten  the  other  to  renounce  the  entire  treaty — a  menace 
that  may  be  lawfully  put  in  execution,  if  it  be  despised.  Such 
is,  doubtless,  the  conduct  which  prudence,  moderation,  the  love 
of  peace  and  charity  would  commonly  prescribe  to  nations. 
Who  will  deny  this,  and  madly  advance  that  sovereigns  are 
allowed  suddenly  to  have  recourse  to  arms  or  wholly  to  break 
every  treaty  of  alliance  for  the  least  subject  of  complaint  ? 
But  the  case  here  is  about  a  right,  and  not  about  the  steps  that 
ought  to  be  taken  to  obtain  justice — besides,  the  principle  upon 
which  such  a  [contrary]  decision  is  founded,  is  absolutely  unsup- 
por table,"  &,c;  and  he  goes  on  to  demonstrate  this  more  at  large. 
He  quotes  Grotius  to  show  that  the  clause  is  sometimes  inserted, 
"that  a  violation  of  some  one  of  the  articles  shall  not  break  the 
whole,  in  order  that  one  of  the  parties  should  not  get  rid  of  the 
engagement  on  account  of  a  small  offence." — /See  Sec.  202. 

Now  it  would  be  mere  caviling  to  say  that  Vattel  allows  of 
this  appeal  to  arms  only  where  the  party  that  has  recourse  to 


SPEECH  BEFORE  THE  UNION  PARTY.  277 

such  measures  is,  in  fact,  injured  :  for  the  question  recurs  who 
is  to  judge  of  that?  Each  party  judges  for  itself  at  its  peril, 
and  war  alone  can  "arbitrate  the  event,"  or  if  a  peaceful  course 
be  preferred,  the  whole  compact  is  at  an  end. 

Shall  I  be  told,  in  answer  to  this  reasoning  and  the  concurring 
opinions  of  all  publicists  of  respectability,  that  Mr.  Madison  and 
Mr.  Jefferson  did  not  think  so  in  '98?  Sir,  if  they  taught  any 
other  doctrine,  I  leave  it  to  those  who  have  better  understanding 
than  mine,  to  explain  what  they  meant.  But,  if  it  be  affirmed 
that  the  purport  of  their  resolutions  was  that,  by  the  inherent 
attribute  of  sovereignty,  any  single  party  to  the  Federal  Com- 
pact may  interpose  in  order  to  prevent  the  execution  of  a  law 
passed  by  the  rest,  and  that  the  others  may  not  maintain  their 
construction  of  the  constitution,  either  by  coercing  that  single 
State  into  acquiescence,  or  shutting  her  out  of  the  Union  al- 
together, at  their  option,  then  I  have  no  hesitation  in  declaring  it, 
as  my  opinion,  that  they  advanced  a  proposition,  inconsistent 
with  every  principle  of  public  law,  without  a  shadow  of  founda- 
tion in  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States,  and  utterly  repug- 
nant to  the  common  sense  of  mankind.  And  what,  if  they  did 
advance  such  a  paradox,  so  novel,  so  singular,  so  incomprehen- 
sible? Are  the  opinions  of  two  men — however  respectable  and 
distinguished — speculative  opinions,  too,  for  neither  Virginia  nor 
Kentucky  made  a  case  by  acting  upon  these  notions — are  the  ad- 
venturous and  speculative  opinions  of  two  individuals,  conceived 
and  put  forth  in  a  time  of  great  excitement,  to  settle  the  public 
law  of  this  country,  every  thing  in  our  constitution,  and  our 
books,  and  our  common  sense  to  the  contrary,  notwithstanding? 
Why,  sir,  even  under  the  feudal  system — a  scheme  of  organized 
anarchy,  if  I  may  use  the  expression — the  most  that  an  injured 
feudatory  ever  claimed,  was  the  right  to  make  war  upon  his 
lord,  who  denied  him  justice,  without  incurring  the  penalties  of 
treason.  But  it  was  reserved  for  the  nineteenth  century  to  dis- 
cover that  great  secret  of  international  law  and  to  deduce  it,  too, 
by  abstract  reasoning,  upon  the  fitness  of  things — a  right  of  war 
in  one  party  out  of  twenty-four,  whenever  the  mood  prompts,  or 
doing  what  amounts  to  an  act  of  war,  accompanied  by  the  duty 
of  implicit  acquiescence  in  all  the  rest !  But  the  truth  is,  that 
neither  Mr.  Jefferson  nor  Mr.  Madison  had  any  such  wild  and 
chimerical  conceits ;  as,  I  think,  perfectly  demonstrable  from  the 
very  text  cited  to  maintain  the  opposite  opinion. 

I  have  had  occasion,  frequently,  to  examine  this  subject,  and 
I  speak  with  confidence  upon  it.  And,  assuredly,  that  confi- 
dence is  not  diminished  by  the  emphatic  declaration  of  Mr. 
Madison  himself — by  the  contemporaneous  exposition  of  the 
resolutions  in  the  Virginia  Assembly — by  the  disavowal  of  the 
doctrine  by  all  the  leading  members  of  the  democratic  party, 


278  SPEECH  BEFORE  THE  UNION  PARTY. 

with  Mr.  Livingston  at  their  head — and  by  the  unfeigned  sur- 
prise which  the  whole  country,  Virginia  and  Kentucky  included, 
expressed  upon  the  first  propounding  of  this  extraordinary  pro- 
position, in  1828.  The  Virginia  resolutions  talk  of  the  right  to 
interpose — do  they  say  what  is  to  ensue  upon  the  exercise  of  that 
right?  No,  sir,  they  thought  that  intelligible  enough — they 
were  asserting  no  more  than  what  has  been  so  expressively  and 
pointedly  designated  as  the  "right  to  fight,"  and  they  meant,  if 
they  meant  any  thing,  no  more  than  a  declaration  of  opinion,  to 
back  their  declarations  by  100,000  militia,  as  I  understand  the 
phrase  of  the  day  to  have  been.  This  is  the  plain  English  of 
the  matter — and  one  ground  of  objection  to  the  "Carolina  doc- 
trine," as  it  has  been  called,  (though  I  doubt,  not  very  accurately,) 
is  that  it  is  not  in  plain  English — that  the  people  may  be  led,  by 
a  fatal  deception,  to  do  what  they  have  never  seriously  contem- 
plated, and  what  no  people  ought  to  do,  without  a  solemn  self- 
examination,  and  a  deliberate  view  to  consequences. 

Sir,  we  have  heard  of  "nursery  tales  of  raw  heads  and  bloody 
bones."  1  am  sorry  that  such  an  expression  escaped  the  lips  of 
the  distinguished  person  who  uttered  it,  and  I  lament  still  more 
that  he  gave  it  to  the  world  in  print.  I  am  sure  when  he  comes 
to  re-consider,  he  cannot  approve  it — unless,  indeed,  he  means  to 
declare  that  the  rest  of  the  States  are  too  cowardly  or  too  feeble 
even  to  attempt  to  enforce  their  construction  of  the  compact. 
This  may  be  so,  but  for  my  part,  I  cannot  consent  to  act  upon 
such  a  calculation.  If  we  do  what  we  firmly  believe  it  is  our 
duty  to  do,  let  us  make  up  our  minds  to  meet  all  consequences. 
If  there  is  any  feature  of  the  American  Revolution  more  ad- 
mirable than  another,  it  is  that  our  fathers  had  fully  counted  the 
cost  before  they  took  a  single  step.  The  leaders  of  the  people 
were  at  great  pains  to  inform  them  of  the  perils  and  privations 
which  they  were  about  to  encounter.  They  put  them  on  their 
guard  against  precipitate  determinations.  They  impressed  it 
upon  their  minds  that  a  period  was  at  hand,  which  called  for 
"patience  and  heroic  martyrdom" — they  had  not  as  yet  a  coun- 
try to  save,  or  a  government  worth  to  be  transmitted  to  posterity, 
or  how  much  more  anxious  would  their  deliberations  have  been. 
The  language  of  a  great,  popular  leader  at  Boston,  before  the 
first  overt  act  of  resistance,  has  made  a  deep  impression  upon 
my  mind,  and  deserves  to  be  repeated  here.  "It  is  not  the  spirit 
that  vapors  within  these  walls,  (said  Mr.  Q,uincy)  that  must  stand 
us  in  stead.  The  exertions  of  this  day  will  call  forth  events, 
which  will  make  a  very  different  spirit  necessary  for  our  salva- 
tion. Look  to  the  end.  Whoever  supposes  that  shouts  and 
hosannas  will  terminate  the  trials  of  this  day  entertains  a  child- 
ish fancy.  We  must  be  grossly  ignorant  of  the  importance  and 
the  value  of  the  prize  we  are  contending  for — we  must  be  equal- 


SPEECH  BEFORE  THE  UNION  PARTY.  279 

ly  ignorant  of  the  power  of  those  who  are  contending  against 
us — we  must  be  blind  to  that  malice,  inveteracy,  and  insatiable 
revenge  which  actuate  our  enemies,  to  hope  we  shall  end  this 
controversy,  without  the  sharpest  conflicts — to  flatter  ourselves 
that  popular  resolves,  popular  harangues,  popular  acclamations 
and  popular  vapor  will  vanquish  our  foes.  Let  us  consider  the 
issue.  Let  us  weigh  and  consider  before  we  advance  to  those 
measures  which  must  bring  on  the  most  trying  and  terrible 
struggle  this  country  ever  saw." 

To  this  complexion  it  must  come  at  last,  and  the  only  ques- 
tion now  submitted  to  the  people  of  South-Carolina,  is — Are  you 
ready  to  absolve  yourselves  from  your  allegiance  to  the  Govern- 
ment of  the  United  States,  and  to  take  and  maintain  your  station 
as  a  separate  commonwealth  among  the  nations  of  the  earth  ? 

I  have  confined  myself,  in  the  discussion  of  this  subject,  to  a 
single  point  in  one  branch  of  it.  I  have  said  nothing-  about  the 
extent  of  our  grievances,  so  enormously  exaggerated  by  the 
"Exposition."  Even  in  regard  to  the  proposed  remedy  by  Nulli- 
fication, I  have  chosen  to  take  up  the  question  as  it  is  presented 
by  the  warmest  advocates  of  that  doctrine — and  I  submit  that  I 
have  made  it  plain  that,  even  on  their  own  showing,  it  is  neces- 
sarily an  act  of  war — a  revolutionary  measure.  But,  in  doing 
so,  I  have  conceded  a  great  deal  too  much — I  have  allowed  them 
to  treat  our  elaborate  and  peculiar  polity,  which  we  have  been 
taught  to  regard  as  one  of  the  master-pieces  of  human  inven- 
tion— as  if  it  were  the  coarsest  and  loosest  of  those  occasional 
expedients  to  preserve  peace  among  foreign  powers,  leagues,  of- 
fensive and  defensive.  If  their  argument  is  wholly  inconclusive 
and  indeed  manifestly  incongruous  and  absurd  even  in  this  point 
of  view,  what  shall  be  said  of  it,  when  it  is  thoroughly  and  cri- 
tically examined  with  reference  to  a  true  state  of  the  case  ?  Sir, 
I  have  no  language  to  express  my  astonishment  that  such  a  doc- 
trine should  have  found  any  countenance  from  the  able  and  en- 
lightened men  who  have  given  in  their  adhesion  to  it. 

We  have  been  taunted  as  submissionists — I  am  not  afraid  of 
a  nickname — "Tis  the  eye  of  childhood  that  fears  a  painted 
devil."  It  would  be  easy — very,  very  easy  to  retort — but  I  pre- 
fer accepting  our  own  denomination  and  putting  my  own  inter- 
pretation upon  it.     I  give  you,  Sir, 

The  Submission-men  of  South- Carolina — 

"They  dare  do  all  that  may  become  a  man, 
Who  dares  do  more,  is  none." 


SPIRIT  OF  THE  SUB-TREASURY. 


Speech  on  the  Bill  imposing  additional  Duties  as  Depositaries,  in  eertain  eases 
on  public  Officers,  delivered  in  the  House  of  Representatives  of  the  United 
States,  October,  1837.     Washington,  D.  C. 

Mr.  Chairman  : 

I  do  not  know  how  I  can  more  appropriately  begin  the  re- 
marks I  am  about  to  make,  than  in  the  very  words  with  which 
a  most  able  English  writer,  addressing  himself  to  the  causes 
and  character  of  the  recent  crisis,  concludes  his  :  "The  events, 
(says  Mr.  Samuel  Jones  Lloyd,  in  a  pamphlet  published  last 
spring,)  which  have  occurred  in  connection  with  the  late  pres- 
sure upon  the  moneyed  and  mercantile  interests,  are  full  of 
instructive  illustrations  of  the  effects,  both  beneficial  and  other- 
wise, of  our  present  system ;  and  the  evil  consequences  of  this 
pressure  will  be  as  nothing,  compared  with  its  benefits ;  if, 
amongst  these,  we  shall  be  enabled  to  reckon  an  increased  de- 
gree of  intelligence  upon  subjects  connected  with  currency,  and 
a  nearer  approximation  to  sound  principles  in  the  management 
of  our  paper  issues."  The  revulsion,  it  is  true,  has  been  far 
more  disastrous  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic  than  in  England  ; 
and  yet,  even  at  its  darkest  period — now,  as  I  confidently  believe, 
passed  away  to  give  place  to  returning  prosperity, — I  found  con- 
solation in  the  idea  that,  dearly  as  we  were  buying  our  expe- 
rience in  this  important  matter,  the  price  would  not  be  too  high 
for  the  benefits  we  should  ultimately  derive  from  our  reverses. 
A  national  visitation  ought  to  be  considered  as  a  great  providen- 
tial lesson.  It  teaches  the  most  momentous  truths,  and  it  teaches 
them  in  the  most  impressive  manner,  and  what  we  have  recently 
seen  and  felt  will  dispose  us — if  any  thing  can  dispose  us — to 
look  the  difficulties,  with  which  this  subject  is  surrounded,  fairly 
in  the  face. 

Sir,  it  is  surrounded  with  difficulties.  Even  in  England,  as 
you  perceive  from  the  citation  1  have  just  made,  they  are  felt 
and  acknowledged  by  the  most  able  men.  I  have  upon  my  desk 
many  other  proofs  of  the  same  fact.  They  abound,  for  instance, 
in  the  Minutes  of  Evidence,  taken  before  the  Committee  of  the 
House  of  Commons,  on  the  renewal  of  the  charter  of  the  Bank 
of  England,  in  1832*     You  will  find  there  that,  while  high  au- 


SPIRIT  OF  THE  SUB-TREASURY.  281 

Ihorities*  agree  in  thinking  that  there  should  be  but  one  bank  of 
issue  for  the  Capital,  at  least,  if  not  for  the  whole  country  ;  the 
representatives  of  the  great  commercial  and  manufacturing  inte- 
rests, ou  the  contrary,  protest  against  the  continuance  of  a  mo 
nopoly  to  which  they  impute  the  most  sinister  influences  over 
their  immense  business,t  and  demand  a  system  of  joint-stock 
banks,  regulated  by  principles  more  agreeable,  as  they  contend, 
to  the  course  and  policy  of  trade.  A  third  party  insists  upon 
the  necessity  of  compelling  all  banks  of  issue  to  give  adequate 
security  to  the  public,  (in  Government  stock,  &c.)  for  the  re- 
demption of  their  issues,!  while  every  stockholder  or  partner 
shall  continue  to  be,  as  at  present,  responsible  for  all  the  debts 
of  the  company,  to  the  whole  amount  of  his  private  fortune.  A 
fourth,  (and  I  have  just  received  from  London  a  little  volume 
in  which  that  opinion  is  most  plausibly  maintained,)  urges  the 
most  unlimited  freedom  in  banking ;  and  sees  no  more  danger 
to  society  from  perfect  liberty  in  this,  than  in  any  other  branch 
of  business, — the  supplying,  for  example,  the  market  of  a  great 
capital  with  the  necessaries  of  life. §  In  this  perplexity  and  dis- 
traction of  English  opinion  upon  this  subject,  however,  all  parties 
agree  in  one  thing,  and  that  is,  in  adhering  to  the  paper  sys- 
tem. Nobody  there  thinks  of  any  thing  so  extravagant  as  the 
overthrow  of  that  system,  whatever  defects  may  be  seen  or  sup- 
posed to  exist  in  it,  or  whatever  projects  may  have  been  imagined 
to  purify,  to  correct,  and  to  improve  it. 

But  if  such  is  the  state  of  English  opinion  in  regard  to  this 
subject,  how  must  it  be  with  us,  when  to  all  the  intrinsic  diffi- 
culties of  the  thing  itself,  we  add  those  arising  out  of  the  com- 
plicated structure  of  our  political  institutions?  It  would  be 
hard  enough  to  say  what  ought  to  be  done,  in  the  present  emer- 
gency, were  this  a  simple  consolidated  Government,  but  how 
much  harder  is  it  to  advise  the  administration  of  a  federal 
Government  as  to  the  course  it  ought  to  pursue,  where  one  hap- 
pens to  doubt  its  possessing  all  the  power  necessary  to  give 
complete  relief,  without  a  co-operation  of  others  ?  For,  sir,  at 
the  risk  of  being  set  down  in  that  category  of  "tiny  politicians" 
of  whom  the  gentleman  from  Maryland,  (Mr.  W.  Cost  Johnson,) 
in  a  very  amusing  speech,  in  the  course  of  which,  however,  he 

*  Messrs.  Horsley  Palmer,  Tooke,  Rothschild,  &c. 

t  Messrs.  Burt,  Smith,  and  Dyer,  of  Manchester.  It  is  worthy  of  remark,  that 
these  remonstrances  were  admitted  to  be  well-founded  by  the  change  which,  in 
consequence  of  them,  was  made  in  the  law,  in  reference  to  joint-stock  banks  be- 
yond 65  miles  from  London. 

X  Messrs.  Ricardo,  Maccullough,  Norton,  (the  last  in  Minutes,  &c.  just  cited). 

§  Money  and  its  Vicissitudes  in  Value,  by  the  author  of  the  Rationale  of  Po- 
litical Representation,  and  Critical  Dissertation  on  Value,  &c.  (Mr.  Francis 
Bailey.) 

vol.  i. — 36 


282  SPIRIT  OF  THE  SUB-TREASURY. 

uttered  some  grave  and  important  truths,  spoke  last  night  with 
such  profound  contempt,  I  must  confess  I  agree  with  the  Execu- 
tive in  the  general  principles  of  constitutional  law  involved  in 
the  Message.  In  the  division  of  the  attributes  of  sovereignty 
between  this  Government  and  the  States,  it  may  and  must  hap- 
pen that  we  should  experience  sometimes  a  chasm,  and  some- 
times a  conflict  of  powers.  More  is  taken  from  the  States, 
perhaps,  than  has  been  given  to  the  confederacy,  neither  can  do 
enough,  while  each  can  do  too  much,  for  perfect  harmony ;  de- 
fects, discrepancies,  and  contradictions  exist  in  the  scheme  itself, 
detected  only  in  a  long  course  of  practice  ;  and  which  nothing 
but  practical  skill,  the  wisdom  called  forth  in  the  management 
of  great  affairs,  especially  political  affairs,  can  reconcile  and 
rectify.  Undoubtedly  the  task  is  an  immensely  difficult  one — 
but  it  must  be  undertaken,  and  it  must  be  done.  The  subject 
before  the  committee  is  an  example  of  the  high  and  difficult 
duties  I  refer  to ;  nor  can  I  imagine  an  occasion  better  fitted 
than  this,  to  awaken  the  House  to  a  lively  sense  of  its  infinite 
responsibilities  to  the  country. 

Judge,  then,  sir,  with  what  deep  disappointment  and  regret,  I 
learned  that  the  bill  on  the  table  was  to  be  pressed  upon  us  at 
this  short  session.  It  is  quite  enough  for  me  that  it  proposes  a 
great  innovation  upon  the  whole  course  of  the  Government, 
from  its  foundation  up  to  the  present  moment,  and  upon  all  the 
habits  of  our  people.  They  who  see  deeper  or  clearer  into  such 
matters  than  I  do  must  pardon  me  for  declaring  that  I  cannot, 
conscientiously,  vote  for  the  measure  in  such  haste.  If  I  had 
no  positive  objections  to  it,  it  would  be  quite  enough  for  me, 
that  I  have  not  had  sufficient  time  to  reflect  on  it.  During  this 
extraordinary  session,  (for  so  it  has  been  in  every  sense  of  the 
word,)  fatigued,  harassed,  exhausted,  by  incessant  attendance, 
by  night  and  by  day,  in  this  Hall,  it  has  not  been  in  my  power 
to  inform  myself  on  any  subject  as  I  could  have  wished  to  be 
able  to  do.  I  have  had  absolutely  no  time  for  minute  research, 
hardly  a  few  hours  for  calm  reflection.  Under  such  circum- 
stances, I  cannot  vote  for  the  bill.  I  must  go  home  to  my 
constituents  and  talk  with  them.  Many,  perhaps  most  of  them, 
understand  these  matters  better  than  I  do;  but  when  I  left  them, 
although  this  subject  had  been  discussed,  and  ably  discussed, 
here  and  there,  byan  individual  or  two,  public  attention  had  not 
been  awakened  to  it :  and  nothing  like  an  opinion — certainly  no 
opinion  favorable  to  the  principle  of  the  bill — had  been  formed 
in  regard  to  it. 

And  here,  sir,  I  might  take  my  seat  again,  if  I  had  risen  only 
to  explain  my  own  vote,  or  to  influence  those  of  others,  on  the 
proposed  measure.     But  the  true  issue  seems  to  me  very  far  to 


SPIRIT  OF  THE  SUB-TREASURY.  283 

transcend,  in  importance,  that  single  measure,  important  as  it 
"unquestionably  is.  It  involves,  in  my  opinion,  the  whole  credit 
system  of  the  country.  I  do  not  say  that  the  bill  on  your  table 
presents  that  issue — still  less  that  the  Executive  message  pre- 
sented it,  or  propounded  any  principle  or  opinion  that  should  lead 
to  it.  But  no  one  who  has  watched  the  progress  of  this  discus- 
sion, in  this  House  or  in  the  Senate — in  or  out  of  this  Capitol — 
will  deny  that  it  must  soon  come  to  that.  Sir,  if  there  is  any 
truth,  at  all,  in  what  has  been  urged  with  great  ability  and  all 
the  zeal,  I  had  almost  said,  the  fanaticism,  of  the  deepest  con- 
viction, by  men  accustomed  to  influence,  nay,  even  to  control 
public  opinion  in  different  parts  of  this  country — if  they  have 
any  idea  of  rigorously  carrying  out  the  principles  they  profess, 
to  their  logical  consequences,  in  practice — if  what  they  say  in 
the  highest  places,  on  the  most  solemn  occasions,  is  not  such  idle 
declamation  as  such  men  are  not  to  be  suspected  of — they  mean 
that,  and  nothing  short  of  that.  Doctrines  have  been  uttered, 
with  all  the  authority  which  can  be  imparted  to  paradox  from 
talent  ripened  by  experience,  which  seem  to  me  inconsistent 
with  the  constitution,  not  only  of  America,  but  of  all  modern 
society,  with  its  whole  spirit  and  tendency — with  all  its  wants 
and  all  its  ways.  I  have,  sometimes,  in  the  course  of  the  de- 
bates, looked  around  me  to  see  where  I  really  was — whether  the 
shade  of  some  old  lawgiver,  some  Minos  or  Lycurgus,  had  not 
been  evoked,  to  bring  a  degenerate  age  back  to  the  stern  princi- 
ples of  Dorian  polity,  to  an  agrarian  equality  of  property,  to  iron 
money  and  black  broth — or  else,  if  it  were  not,  the  spirit  of  Be- 
nedict or  Bernard,  returned  to  the  holy  solitudes  of  Monte  Cas- 
ino, or  Cluni,  or  Citeaux,  to  preach  to  a  world  lost  in  vanity  and 
pleasure,  the  blessings  of  poverty  and  the  mortifications  of  the 
flesh.  Now,  sir,  it  may  be  true  that  luxury,  according  to  the 
old  saw,  is  the  ruin  of  States,  and  that  sumptuary  and  agrarian 
laws  are  necessary  to  maintain  your  true  Spartan  discipline. 
But  I  am  excessively  disinclined  to  try  any  such  experiment 
upon  my  constituents ;  at  least  without  receiving  an  express  in- 
struction, to  that  effect,  from  them.  I  am  afraid  they  have  no 
taste  for  black  broth — that  Spartan  discipline  will  be  irksome, 
and  even  revolting  to  them.  In  short,  sir,  I  have  reason  to  be- 
lieve that,  without  being  as  deeply  imbued,  perhaps,  as  other 
people  are,  with  the  spirit  of  the  age,  they  do  still  partake  too 
much  of  it  to  be  willing  to  forego  the  many  agreeable  objects 
that  principally  engage  and  excite  it. 

Sir,  I  am  far  from  denying  that,  in  the  eyes  of  a  stern  reformer, 
with  opinions  of  a  certain  complexion,  this  generation  is  a  per- 
verse and  crooked  one.  We  love  money,  I  admit,  as  much  as 
men  ever  did — certainly  as  much  as  they  did  in  the  Augustan 


284  SPIRIT  OF  THE  SUB-TREASURY. 

age,  nearly  two  thousand  years  ago.  The  committee  will  excuse 
my  quoting  a  very  common  piece  of  Latin  to  prove  it,  after  the 
example  of  other  gentlemen  in  this  debate. 

Gtucerenda  pecunia  primum  est; 
Virtus  post  nummos — Hoec  Janus  summus  ab  imo 
Prodocet. 

Make  money  by  all  means,  and  before  all  things.  Washing- 
ton street  certifies  it  to  Wall-street,  and  Wall-street  declares  it  to 
Broadway,  and  Broadway  proclaims  it  to  Chesnut-street,  and 
Chesnut-street  publishes  it  to  the  whole  country.  We  have  the 
same  strong  thirst  for  gold  which  has  unhappily  afflicted  man- 
kind in  other  times,  and  especially  in  very  civilized  ages;  and 
the  only  difference  is  that  we  have  learned  how  to  acquire,  by 
honest  means,  a  thousand  times  more  of  it.  I  will  add,  however, 
in  justice  to  the  age,  that  it  has  made  a  great  discovery  in  social 
philosophy.  We  have  found  out  that  what  I  would  call  physi- 
cal civilization — a  demand  for  the  conveniences  and  accommo- 
dations of  life,  and  an  abundant  supply  of  them — is,  and  must 
be,  the  basis  of  all  other  civilization,  that  is  intended  to  be  high, 
solid  and  lasting.  Every  real  improvement  in  the  condition  of 
mankind  springs  out  of,  or  leads  to,  the  elevating  of  the  stand- 
ard of  comfort  among  a  people.  Sir,  this  is  the  grand  work — 
the  mission — of  modern  commerce,  which,  in  my  opinion,  is 
just  beginning  to  develope  its  mighty  resources — to  pour  out  the 
inexhaustible  fulness  of  its  treasures,  and  its  blessings.  A  great 
revolution  is  taking  place — has  taken  place,  in  human  affairs. 
War  is  every  day  becoming  a  more  and  more  remote  contingency. 
I  do  not  say  an  impossibility.  I  know  human  nature  too  well 
for  that.  I  am  fully  aware,  too,  how  many  disturbing  causes, 
growing  out  of  the  history  of  the  past,  still  exist  to  prevent  the 
realizing,  all  at  once,  of  the  great  end  of  Christian  civilization, 
the  dream  of  Henry  IV.  and  of  Sully — the  union  of  all  nations 
in  a  state  of  peace  under  the  protection  of  law.  I  know,  espe- 
cially, what  is  to  be  dreaded,  in  this  respect,  from  that  dark  power 
that  hovers  over  the  confines  of  Europe  and  Asia,  and  throws 
its  vast  shadow  over  both.  But,  during  my  last  residence  of  four 
years  abroad,  I  saw  sufficient  grounds  of  quarrel  to  have  led, 
under  the  old  order  of  things,  to  twenty  wars,  as  spreading  and 
bloody  as  the  Thirty  Years'  War,  or  the  Seven  Years'  War — 
and  yet  these  threatening  differences  passed  harmlessly  away, 
cloud  after  cloud  dissolved  as  it  rose  above  the  horizon,  leav- 
ing the  sky  more  serene  than  before.  Sir,  it  is  a  favorite  phrase 
of  those  who  boast  of  what  is  called  "the  march  of  intellect," 
that  things  are  thus  changed  because  the  "schoolmaster  is 
abroad."  But  I  tell  you  that  something  far  more  effective  than 
the  schoolmaster,  a  mightier  than  Solomon  is  abroad.     It  is  the 


SPIRIT  OF  THE  SUB-TREASURY.  285 

steam-engine — in  its  two-fold  capacity  of  a  means  of  produc- 
tion and  a  means  of  transport — the  most  powerful  instrument  by 
far  of  pacification  and  commerce,  and  therefore  of  improvement 
and  happiness  that  the  world  has  ever  seen  ;  which,  while  it  in- 
creases capital,  and  multiplies  beyond  all  imagination  the  pro- 
ducts of  industry,  brings  the  most  distant  people  into  contact 
with  one  another — breaks  down  the  barriers  which  exclusive  le- 
gislation would  oppose  to  the  freedom  of  mercantile  exchanges — 
effaces  all  peculiarities  of  national  character,  and  promises,  at  no 
distant  period,  to  make  the  whole  Christian  world,  at  least,  one 
great  family.  Sir,  the  social  effects  of  this  great  instrument 
of  modern  improvement  have  been  singularly  promoted  by  a 
branch  of  industry,  in  which  the  part  of  the  country,  I  have  the 
honor  to  represent,  is  most  deeply  interested  ;  and  I  will  avail 
myself  of  this  occasion  to  call  the  attention  of  the  Committee  to 
a  view  of  our  Southern  institutions,  that  may  not  have  occurred 
to  it  before,  or  made  the  impression  it  ought  to  make  upon  thern. 
I  beg  you,  sir,  to  believe  that  I  do  not  speak  in  what  is  called  a 
"sectional"  spirit,  for  I  protest  before  God  that^  nothing  can  be 
further  from  my  heart.  But  let  not  those  whose  minds  have  been 
recently  so  much  inflamed,  against  what  they  consider  as  the 
abomination  of  domestic  servitude,  shut  their  eyes  to  the  truth. 
Sir,  I  allude  to  the  cultivation  of  cotton,  and  its  effects,  through 
the  commerce  it  fosters,  upon  the  condition  of  society.  Who- 
ever shall  write  the  political  history  of  that  invaluable  plant 
will  have  a  more  important  work  to  perform  than  has  ever  fallen 
to  the  lot  of  a  biographer  of  statesmen  or  philosophers.  I  will 
venture  to  say,  without  going  more  into  details,  that  the  single 
circumstance  of  bringing  the  wonderfully  cheap  fabrics  pro- 
duced by  modern  machinery,  within  the  reach  of  even  the  hum- 
blest of  the  laboring  classes,  of  substituting  decent  and  comfort- 
able raiment  for  the  few  scanty  and  filthy  rags — the  squalid  ex- 
terior, which  makes  poverty  not  only  more  painful,  but  at  once 
more  humiliating  and  degrading  to  its  victim,  and  more  disgust- 
ful to  others  than  it  ought  to  be,  will  signally  contribute  to  ele- 
vate the  condition  of  the  poor  in  the  social  scale — to  raise  their 
self-esteem,  and  to  increase  the  sympathy  of  others  for  them — in 
a  word  to  make  them  feel  themselves  men,  entitled  to  a  place 
among  men — not  pariahs  and  outcasts,  whose  contact  is  contam- 
ination. A  people  well  clad  and  well  housed  will  be  sure  to 
provide  themselves  with  all  the  other  comforts  of  life ;  and  it  is 
the  diffusion  of  these  comforts,  and  the  growing  taste  for  them, 
among  all  classes  of  society  in  Europe — it  is  the  desire  of  riches 
as  it  is  commonly  called,  that  is  gradually  putting  an  end  to  the 
destructive  and  bloody  game  of  war,  and  reserving  all  the  re- 
sources hitherto  wasted  by  it,  for  enterprises  of  industry  and 


286  SPIRIT  OP  THE  SUB-TREASURY. 

commerce,  prosecuted  with  the  fiery  spirit  which  once  vented 
itself  in  scenes  of  peril  and  carnage. 

But,  sir,  the  result  of  all  this  is,  that  very  inequality  of  wealth, 
that  accumulation  of  vast  masses  of  it  in  a  few  hands,  against 
which  we  have  heard  so  much  said  lately,  as  if  it  were  some- 
thing inconsistent  with  the  liberties,  the  happiness,  and  the  moral 
and  intellectual  improvement  of  mankind.  Gigantic  fortunes 
are  acquired  by  a  few  years  of  prosperous  commerce — mechanics 
and  manufacturers  rival  and  surpass  the  princes  of  the  earth  in 
opulence  and  splendor.  The  face  of  Europe  is  changed  by  this 
active  industry,  working  with  such  mighty  instruments,  on  so 
great  a  scale.  I  have  travelled  in  parts  of  the  continent  which 
the  spirit  of  gain,  with  its  usual  concomitants,  industry  and  im- 
provement, has  invaded  since  the  peace,  at  an  interval  of  fifteen 
years,  and  been  struck  with  the  revolution  that  is  going  on. 
There  is  a  singularly  beautiful,  though  rather  barren  tract  of 
country,  between  Liege  and  Spa,  where,  in  1819,  my  attention 
had  been  principally  attracted  by  the  striking  features  of  a  moun- 
tainous region,  with  here  and  there  a  ruin  of  the  feudal  past,  and 
here  and  there  a  hovel  of  some  poor  hind — the  very  haunt  of 
the  "Wild  Boar  of  the  Ardennes"*  in  the  good  old  times  of  the 
House  of  Burgundy.  I  returned  to  it  in  1835,  and  saw  it  cov- 
ered with  mills  and  factories,  begrimed  with  the  smoke  and  soot 
of  steam-engines;  its  romantic  beauty  deformed,  its  sylvan  soli- 
tudes disturbed  and  desecrated  by  the  sounds  of  active  industry, 
and  the  busy  hum  of  men.  I  asked  what  had  brought  about  so 
great  a  change,  and  found  the  author  of  it — a  man  having  a  more 
numerous  band  of  retainers  and  dependents  than  any  baron  bold 
of  the  fourteenth  century,  and  in  every  respect  more  important 
than  many  of  the  sovereign  princes  on  the  other  side  of  the 
Rhine — was  an  English  manufacturer,  who  had  established  him- 
self there  some  twenty  years  ago,  without  much  capital,  and  had 
effected  all  this  by  his  industry  and  enterprise.  Such,  sir,  is  the 
spirit  of  the  age — of  course,  in  this  young  and  wonderfully  pro- 
gressive country,  it  is  more  eager  and  ardent — and  therefore  oc- 
casionally extravagant — than  any  where  else.  But  it  is  in  vain 
to  resist  it.  Nay,  1  believe  it  worse  than  vain.  It  is  evidently 
in  the  order  of  nature,  and  we  must  take  it  with  all  its  good  and 
all  its  evils  together.  The  great  designs  of  Providence,  in  giving 
to  the  most  active  and  enterprising  of  all  races  a  new  world  to 
possess,  to  build  up  and  to  adorn,  are  not  to  be  thwarted  by  our 
policy,  even  if  we  thought  it  good  policy  to  thwart  them ;  all 
the  instincts  of  that  race  would  revolt  at  a  system,  which  would 
disappoint  its  high  destiny. 

Mr.  Chairman,  1  have  made  these  general  remarks,  because,  as 
*  See  Cluentin  Durward. 


SPIRIT  OF  THE  SUB-TREASURY.  287 

you  will  have  perceived,  they  have  a  direct  and  important  bear- 
ing upon  the  collateral  issue  presented  by  the  advocates  of  this 
bill,  though  not  in  the  bill  itself,  as  something  to  be  accom- 
plished hereafter.  In  a  country  so  much  governed  by  opinion, 
it  is  all  important  that  opinion  should  be  enlightened  ;  and  errors, 
uttered  by  distinguished  men  in  high  stations,  and  surrounded 
with  whatever  talent  can  contribute  to  render  them  seductive 
and  imposing,  cannot,  without  public  detriment,  be  suffered  to 
pass  unnoticed.  On  this  occasion,  as  I  have  already  intimated, 
it  is  far  less  the  measure  proposed,  than  what  I  consider  as  the 
quo  animo  of  its  advocates  here  and  elsewhere,  that  has  excited 
my  alarms  and  my  opposition.  But  I  have  objections  which  I 
will  now  proceed  to  state,  to  the  policy  of  the  bill  itself. 

There  are  two  very  distinct  questions  presented  to  the  com- 
mittee. The  first  is,  shall  the  revenues  be  collected  only  in  gold 
and  silver  ;  the  second,  how  shall  they  when  collected,  be  kept, 
and  disbursed  :  shall  Sub-  Treasuries  be  established  by  the  gov- 
ernment, or  shall  banks  be  employed  for  that  purpose,  as  hereto- 
fore— and  if  the  latter  course  be  preferred,  then  shall  the  banks 
be  allowed  the  use  of  the  public  deposites,  or  shall  special  depo- 
sites  only  be  made  with  them.  It  is  very  evident  that  these  pro- 
positions have  no  necessary  connection  with  each  other,  and  that 
either  of  them  may  be  approved  or  rejected,  by  those  who  do  not 
reject  or  approve  the  other. 

As  to  the  collection  of  the  revenue  in  specie,  my  objections 
are  by  no  means  so  strong,  or  1  should  say  so  vehement  now  as 
they  were  at  the  opening  of  the  session,  when  gold  and  silver 
were  selling  at  a  premium  of  nine  or  ten  per  cent.  At  that  time 
it  appeared  to  me  that  such  a  measure  would  have  been  a  mere 
wanton  act  of  oppression  upon  the  people  of  the  States,  for  no 
earthly  good  purpose  whatever.  It  would  have  been  simply  au- 
thorising usurers  and  money  brokers  to  lay  upon  the  importers, 
and  through  these  upon  the  consumers  of  foreign  goods,  that  is 
to  say,  upon  the  public,  and  especially  upon  the  planters  of  the 
south,  a  tariff  of  duties  in  a  good  degree  arbitrary,  for  their  own 
benefit  and  that  of  the  functionaries  of  the  Government.  Be 
lieving  as  I  did,  and  do,  that  the  paper  circulation  of  the  country 
from  the  great  and  sudden  contraction  in  consequence  of  the 
panic,  was  rather  too  much  reduced  than  redundant,  I  confess, 
as  I  said  on  a  former  occasion,  I  could  not  see  that  justice,  at 
least  that  equity  and  good  conscience,  made  it  imperative  upon 
us  to  resort  to  so  stern  a  measure ;  especially  as  the  idea  of  fur- 
nishing by  that  means  a  broader  metallic  basis  for  our  circulation 
had  proved  itself  to  our  very  senses  to  be  completely  fallacious. 
We  all  now  see  that  not  a  dollar,  collected  by  the  Government 
and  disbursed  by  its  creditors,  circulates  for  one  moment  as 
money,  but  is  carefully  hoarded  and  sold  as  merchandise ;  and 


:^S>  SPIRIT  OF  THE  SUB-TREASURY. 

that  this  will  continue  to  be  the  case  as  long  as,  from  any  cause 
whatever,  exchanges  shall  be  unfavorable  to  the  country,  is 
equally  evident. 

I  admit  that,  since  the  fall  of  the  price  of  gold  and  silver  to 
live  per  cent.,  this  objection  loses  somewhat  of  its  weight,  but  it 
loses  none  of  its  truth.  The  same  law  of  currency  now  operates, 
though  in  a  mitigated  degree,  to  make  it  an  objectionable  mea- 
sure to  repeal  the  act  of  18 L6,  and  so  to  discredit,  pro  tanto,  all 
bank  notes  in  perpetuity.  Yes,  sir,  to  organize  panic  and  perpe- 
tuate distrust,  so  far  as  your  example  has  any  weight.  And  why 
do  so  ?  What  apology  have  you  to  make  for  an  act  that  certain- 
ly requires  one  ?  What  public  occasion,  what  pressing  exigency 
requires  it  ?  The  message  puts  the  subject,  I  admit,  in  a  very 
specious  and  captivating  form — it  supposes  the  case  of  a  war, 
and  the  Government  to  find  its  whole  treasure  suddenly  turned 
into  bank  credits ;  and  we  are  asked  whether  such  a  thing  could 
be  borne.  But  admit  that,  in  case  of  war,  the  Government 
would  be  driven  to  that  and  any  other  measure  of  equal  or  even 
of  greater  severity.  What  then?  Does  it  follow  that  such  a 
system  should  be  unnecessarily  adopted  in  time  of  peace?  But 
the  truth  is  that,  even  in  time  of  war,  it  would  make  less  differ- 
ence to  the  Government  than  is  generally  supposed.  Certainly, 
some  of  its  operations,  distant  naval  expeditions  and  the  like, 
would  require  gold  and  silver,  and  they  must  be  had  at  whatever 
price  from  within  or  from  abroad  ;  but,  after  all,  with  such  credit, 
as  that  of  the  United  States  now  is,  it  is  impossible  to  imagine 
that  the  nation  should  be  embarrassed  even  for  a  single  moment, 
by  the  failure  of  its  banks  to  pay  some  millions  in  gold  and  sil- 
ver. Look  at  England  in  the  eventful  period  between  the  sus- 
pension of  payment  in  '97  and  the  peace  of  1815.  It  is  now 
universally  confessed  that  that  measure,  and  that  measure  alone, 
boldly  empirical  as  it  was  once  thought,  enabled  her  to  sustain 
the  burthens  of  that  terrible  conflict,  and  to  achieve  a  triumph 
worthy  of  her  generous  constancy  under  misfortune.  I  do  not 
therefore  see  how,  even  the  necessities  of  war  would  compel 
Government,  abounding  in  such  resources  of  public  credit  as  no 
other  Government  ever  enjoyed,  to  resort  to  a  measure  so  novel, 
so  harsh,  so  inconsistent  with  the  established  order  of  things  in 
the  country,  and  with  all  the  habits  of  the  people. 

But  the  great  objection  with  me  is,  that  which  appears  from  a 
passage  quoted  by  the  gentleman  from  Virginia,  (Mr.  Garland,) 
to  have  presented  itself  to  Mr.  Dallas,  in  1815.  You  will  do 
some  harm  by  refusing  bank  paper ;  considering  how  little  specie 
there  has  ever  been  in  this  country,  you  may,  by  requiring  it  to 
be  paid  to  you  in  a  large  amount  annually,  make  it  always  an 
article  of  merchandize  ;  you  will  thus  permanently  discredit  bank 
notes,  and  render  impossible  the  restoration  of  their  convertibi- 


SPIRIT  OF  THE  SUB-TREASURY.  289 

lily.  But  that  is  not  all ;  even  should  this  mischief  not  ensue, 
you  at  least,  by  thus  rejecting  them,  to  the  whole  extent  of  your 
transactions,  abandon  the  currency  to  its  fate  under  the  adminis- 
tration of  the  States.  You  make  no  efforts,  you  exert  no  influ- 
ence to  maintain  its  purity  and  uniformity,  by  distinguishing  be- 
tween corporations  which  redeem  their  notes,  and  those  which 
are  notoriously  insolvent.  You  proclaim  your  distrust  of  all  of 
them  alike — you  write  it  in  your  statute-book — however  disas- 
trous the  condition  of  the  monetary  concerns  of  the  States  may 
be,  through  want  of  skill  or  want  o:  concert,  you  leave  them  to 
themselves,  and  that  when,  standing  in  the  most  intimate  and 
the  most  commanding  relation  towards  them,  you  might,  if  you 
gave  yourselves  the  leasf  trouble  about  the  matter,  exercise  a 
most  salutary  control  over  them,  and  remedy  these  great  incon- 
veniences for  the  benefit  of  us  all.  For,  sir,  it  is  not  enough  to 
say  you  have  no  power,  strictly  so  called,  under  the  constitution 
to  regulate  the  currency.  I  admit  that  you  have  none.  What 
then?  Have  you  no  influence — influence  of  example — influ- 
ence of  precept — influence  of  authority — influence  of  patronage 
influence  of  connection  and  custom  in  business,  in  the  use  of 
these  very  deposites  l  Has  not  the  constitution  provided  that  all 
defects  in  our  institutions  shall  be  corrected  by  amendments  re- 
gularly recommended  and  introduced,  and  is  it  not  one  of  your 
duties  so  to  recommend  and  introduce  them  ? 

Why  do  you  not  urge  upon  the  States  any  reform  you  may 
judge  necessary  in  the  matter?  1  appeal  to  every  one  that  hears 
me,  what  he  should  think  of  an  individual,  who,  possessing  im- 
mense influence  in  a  community,  with  an  income  of  many  mil- 
lions a  year,  should,  in  a  time  of  trouble,  coolly  withdraw  him- 
self from  society,  andhoard  his  money,  like  an  usurer,  in  a  com- 
mercial panic,  waiting  until  the  extreme  necessities  of  his  neigh- 
bors shall  throw  them  upon  his  mercy?  Is  this  the  morality 
we  are  taught  in  our  private  relations  ?  Shall  nothing  be  expect- 
ed from  him  to  whom  so  much  has  been  given  ?  Shall  he  hide 
his  light  under  a  bushel  ?  Shall  he  bury  his  ten  talents  in  the 
earth,  and  escape  condemnation  as  an  unprofitable  servant  l  And 
shall  that  be  right  in  a  government,  which,  in  a  private  person, 
shocks  the  moral  sense  of  mankind  ?  in  a  government  standing 
towards  the  people  of  this  country  in  relations  so  very  peculiar ! 
Sir,  what  answer  would  you  have  to  give  to  the  States,  if  in  a 
moment  of  public  calamity,  like  that  which  is  just  passing  away, 
feeling  their  distresses  aggravated  through  your  harsh  exactions 
of  what  their  people  had  not  to  give,  appealing  in  vain  to  you 
for  succour  or  for  counsel,  they  were  to  hold  to  you  the  lan- 
guage which  indignation  and  astonishment  would  naturally  in- 
spire, under  such  extraordinary  circumstances  ?  If  they  were  to 
say  to  you,  "We  have  done  every  thing  to  exalt  and  to  magnify 
vol.  i. — 37 


290  SPIRIT  OF  THE  SUB-TREASURY. 

you — wc  have  clothed  you  with  authority  and  awe — we  have 
armed  you  with  mighty  powers,  with  the  axes  and  fasces  of  su- 
preme jurisdiction — we  have  surrounded  you  with  all  the  glori- 
ous equipage  and  pomp  of  empire,  endowed  you  with  a  vast 
treasury,  with  fleets,  armies,  senates,  judges— that  palace,  these 
gorgeous  domes—  this  capitolhwi  fulgens — what  for?  that  you 
should  renounce  all  community  of  interest,  all  sympathy  with 
us  !  that  there  should  be  no  ties  of  affection  or  of  duty  between 
us  !  that  you  should  ostentatiously  proclaim  yourselves,  as  your 
worst  enemies  have  sometimes  alleged  that  you  are,  a  foreign 
government  in  the  midst  of  our  country,  and  even  avail  your- 
selves of  a  moment  of  cruel  revulsion  and  calamity,  to  make  us 
feel  that  you  are  so  in  spirit  and  in  truth  !"  Sir,  I  do  not  know — 
I  cannot  conceive,  how  such  a  course  should  fail  to  strike  every 
body  as  a  perversion  of  all  the  eternal  obligations  of  morality 
which  are  and  ought  to  be  as  binding  upon  communities  as  upon 
the  individuals  that  compose  them — how  gentlemen  can,  at  such 
a  moment  as  the  present,  entertain,  without  emotion,  the  strange 
proposition,  that  this  government  should  bury  itself,  like  Sarda- 
napalus,  in  a  selfish  repose,  a  degenerate  and  inglorious  indiffer- 
ence to  all  the  interests  of  the  country:  or,  if  I  can  make  such  a 
comparison  without  shocking  them  too  much,  that,  like  Nero,  it 
should  fiddle  while  Rome  is  burning. 

Agreeing,  then,  sir,  with  the  Executive  in  the  principles  laid 
down  in  the  Message,  I  differ  with  it  in  the  practical  inference 
deduced  from  them. — In  the  division  of  power  between  the  gov- 
ernment and  the  States,  I  think  with  it,  that  all  that  is  required 
to  meet  this  emergency  has  not  been  given  to  the  former.  But 
the  inadequacy  of  our  powers  is  no  excuse  for  not  exerting  them 
to  the  uttermost  for  the  public  good,  especially  as  there  is  reason 
to  think  that  the  convention  did  not  foresee  the  present  state  of 
things.  We  can  do  much,  if  we  cannot  do  every  thing.  The 
occasion  calls  only  for  a  good  will  and  a  moderate  share  of  prac- 
tical ability ;  and  I  have  no  hesitation  in  saying  that,  among  the 
existing  banking  institutions  of  the  country,  can  be  found  ample 
means  of  accomplishing  the  two  great  objects  of  restoring  specie 
payments,  and  maintaining  hereafter,  in  all  ordinary  times,  a 
convertible  currency,  which  is  all  that  we  can  expect  to  do. 

Sir,  I  do  not  wish  to  be  misunderstood.  It  is  of  the  utmost 
importance  that  the  paper  of  the  banks  should  not  only  not  in 
fact  be  depreciated,  (as  I  believe  is  actually  the  case)  but  should 
be  able  to  stand  the  only  sure,  and  to  the  public  at  large,  satis- 
factory test  of  that  fact — I  mean  convertibility  into  specie.  I 
am  fully  aware  that  the  accident  of  a  failure  in  the  means  of 
making  their  payments  in  the  precious  metals  is  one  against 
which,  according  to  the  course  of  modern  commerce,  there  can 
be  no  complete  security  ;  and  that  nothing  can  be  more  absurdly 


SPIRIT  OF  THE  SUB-TREASURY.  291 

exaggerated,  than  the  importance  attached  to  that  occurrence,  by 
persons  not  familiar  with  the  principles  of  banking-,  when  it 
happens  in  consequence  of  an  extraordinary  demand  from  abroad 
or  a  sudden  panic  within.  Nay,  more,  I  admit  that  the  most 
usual  effect  of  a  great  revulsion  in  trade  is  to  throw  much  paper 
out  of  circulation  ;  to  contract  the  currency,  and  so  to  bring 
down  exchanges  and  prices,  and  raise  the  value  of  the  money 
that  remains  in  the  hands  of  the  public.  But  a  suspension  of 
specie  payments,  though  it  may  not  be  a  present  evil,  is  always 
fraught  with  danger.  It  is  the  indispensable  duty  of  a  statesman 
to  put  an  end  to  it  as  soon  as  possible,  either  by  encouragement 
or  by  compulsion.  It  is  for  this,  among  other  reasons,  that  I  so 
cheerfully  acquiesced  in  the  issuing  of  Treasury  notes ;  inas- 
much as  it  relieved  us  from  the  necessity  either  of  directly  re- 
fusing to  take  the  paper  of  the  banks  at  par,  or  by  receiving  it, 
(as  we  might  otherwise  very  safely  have  done,)  of  betraying 
those  companies  into  an  impolitic  enlargement  of  their  issues, 
before  the  balance  of  payments  had  been  turned  in  our  favor — 
as  I  hope  it  will  be  by  the  coming  crop.  I  regarded  it  as  an  ex- 
cellent temporary  expedient  for  avoiding,  at  present,  this  choice 
of  evils.  So  far,  I  think  nothing  more  unfounded  than  the  gen- 
eral charge  of  insolvency  against  all  our  banks,  which  is  so  in- 
considerately uttered  by  the  press,  and  in  debate,  as  well  as  the 
assertion  repeated  over  and  over  again,  on  this  floor,  that  the 
country  is  laboring  under  an  excessive  and  depreciated  currency. 
It  is  not  yet  so ;  but  it  will,  I  fear,  very  soon  be  so,  if  the  banks 
do  not  make  an  effort  to  return  to  specie  payments  in  the  course 
of  a  few  months.  Now  is  the  time  to  do  so :  now,  that  their 
issues  are  contracted  ;  that  importations  have  been  checked  ;  that 
exchanges  are  become  more  favorable  ;  and  that  the  great  south- 
ern crops  are  about  to  be  sent  forward  to  make  them  still  more 
so.  Let  every  one  interested  in  the  fate  of  these  institutions,  as 
well  as  in  the  commercial  prosperity  of  the  country,  exert  what- 
ever influence  he  may  possess  to  bring  about  that  result ;  and  to 
deliver  the  banks  from  the  temptations  to  dangerous  excess,  to 
which  the  return  of  an  active  and  prosperous  business  will  inev- 
itably expose  them,  if  they  do  not,  once  more,  lay  themselves 
under  the  restraint  of  convertibility. 

Sir,  should  they  unhappily  take  a  different  course,  and  should 
this  government,  after  using  all  its  influence  and  authority,  to 
establish  the  currency  of  the  country  on  a  better  footing,  fail  of 
success  in  its  most  zealous  endeavors,  I  admit  that  it  may  be 
driven  to  the  necessity  of  taking  care  of  its  own  business  and 
creditors,  by  independent  legislation  of  its  own.  There  is  no 
doubt  that  a  variously  depreciated  currency  cannot  be  tolerated 
as  the  settled  system  of  the  country.     The  ports  of  one  State 


292  SPIRIT  OF  THE  SUB-TREASURY. 

cannot  be  preferred  to  those  of  another,  in  this  way,  any  more 
than  by  an  express  statute  to  that  effect.  Nor  can  the  public 
creditor  be  justly  paid  in  money  really  depreciated, — I  mean  not 
in  reference  merely  to  gold  and  silver,  which  are  themselves  lia- 
ble to  great  fluctuations  in  value,  but  to  the  general  mass  of  com- 
modities that  compose  the  conveniencies  and  necessaries  of  life. 
The  effects  of  a  redundant  currency,  when  once  they  begin  to 
be  distinctly  perceived,  are  counteracted  by  a  general  rise  of 
prices.  Money  is  twice  as  easy  to  be  got,  but  you  have  to  pay 
twice  as  much  for  every  thing  which  it  buys.  Hut  there  is  one 
class  of  persons  who  have  no  means  of  indemnifying  themselves 
by  raising  the  nominal  value  of  their  property  or  their  claims. 
It  is  the  class  of  those  who  live  on  fixed  incomes — annuitants, 
fundholders,  functionaries  of  States,  pensioners.  They  are  paid 
a  certain  swra,  and  with  every  diminution  in  the  value  it  ex- 
presses, they  lose  just  so  much  of  what  they  are  fairly  entitled 
to.  In  this  view  of  the  subject,  therefore,  it  is  quite  clear,  that 
government  is  under  the  highest  of  all  moral  obligations  to  see 
that  their  dues  be  not  paid  them  in  what  is  really  worth  a  great 
deal  less  than  it  purports  to  be. 

What  1  have  hitherto  said  relates  to  the  first  question  pro- 
pounded by  the  bill  on  your  table — shall  gold  and  silver  only  be 
received  in  payment  of  government  dues.  As  to  the  second  in- 
quiry.  sir,  whether  the  revenue  shall  be  kept  by  officers  of  our 
own,  or  by  die  banks  ;  and  if  the  latter,  whether,  in  the  shape  of 
special  or  general  deposite,  so  much  has  been  said,  and  so  ably 
said,  upon  that  head,  against  the  system  recommended  by  the 
message,  that  I  am  very  little  disposed  to  trouble  the  committee 
with  any  additional  remarks  in  regard  to  it.  Were  I  driven  to 
make  a  choice  between  the  two  plans  referred  to,  I  should,  as  at 
present  advised,  greatly  prefer  that  of  a  special  deposite,  on  a 
small  commission,  as  at  once  the  safest,  the  cheapest,  and  most 
simple — as  departing  less  from  our  previous  customs,  and  not 
being  so  liable  to  the  great  practical  objection  of  going  perma- 
nently to  increase  the  already  enormous  and  disproportionate  in- 
fluence of  the  Executive  power,  which,  beyond  all  doubt,  far 
exceeds  any  thing  that  was  anticipated  by  the  founders  of  the 
government,  and  seriously  threatens  to  disturb,  if  not  to  subvert 
the  whole  balance  of  the  constitution.  I  need  not  say  that  1 
have  no  reference  whatever  to  the  present,  or  any  other  indivi- 
dual incumbent.  I  speak  of  the  operations  of  great  general 
causes,  and  of  a  system,  whose  effects  are  almost  entirely  inde- 
pendent of  the  will  of  man.  Another  very  grave  objection  to 
the  scheme  reported  by  the  committee,  in  its  resemblance,  or,  at 
least,  its  fearful  leaning  to  that  of  a  great  political  Bank  of  the 
I'nited  States,  of  which  a  justly  celebrated  report  of  one  of  my 


SPIRIT  OP  THE  SUB-TREASURY.  293 

predecessors  upon  this  floor,*  demonstrated,  some  years  ago.  the 
dangers  and  inconveniences,  as  I  have  always  supposed,  to  the 
universal  conviction  of  the  people.  But,  although  I  should  pre- 
fer the  special  deposite  system  to  that  of  the  committee  of  ways 
and  means,  I  am  not  yet  prepared  to  adopt  it.  That  immense 
benefits  have  been  conferred  upon  the  country,  by  adding  to  its 
productive  capital  the  large  amounts  of  public  money,  which 
would  otherwise  have  lain  dormant  in  the  Treasury,  does  not 
admit  of  a  question.  I  will  venture  to  say  that,  in  the  course  of 
the  half  century  that  has  elapsed  since  '89,  countless  millions 
have  been  the  fruit  of  this  truly  paternal  and  beneficent  system. 
Our  predecessors,  Mr.  Dallas  among  them,  seem  to  have  been 
deeply  impressed  with  this  view  of  the  subject.  They  seem  to 
have  felt  themselves  bound  to  render  our  system  of  taxation, 
which,  even  in  its  mildest  form  is,  in  fact,  a  confiscation  of  pri- 
vate property  for  public  uses,  as  little  burthensome  as  possible  to 
the  community.  Sir,  whatever  we  may  think  of  the  policy  of 
pursuing  their  footsteps  any  further,  no  one  can  deny  that  they 
are  entitled  to  the  gratitude  of  the  country  for  the  past ;  and  I, 
for  one,  am  too  sensible  of  the  benefit,  to  throw  it  away  without 
very  mature  consideration,  unless  under  the  pressure  of  a  cogent 
necessity. 

But  we  have  been  told,  sir,  that,  far  from  being  an  innovation, 
this  mode  of  collecting  the  public  revenues  was  universal  from 
the  earliest  times  until  the  beginning  of  the  last  century — that  is 
to  say,  until  an  age  of  philosophic  light  and  diffusive  civilization, 
at  which  another  good  old  plan,  established  from  time  immemo- 
rial, the  burning  of  witches  and  heretics,  unhappily  ceased  too. 
This  coincidence  certainly  appears  to  me  to  be  entitled  to  some 
consideration  ;  the  committee  will  see  that,  in  the  matter  of  in- 
novation, going  back  too  far  is  at  least  as  dangerous  as  going  for- 
ward too  rapidly.  But  there  has  been  another  reference  to  the 
examples  of  the  past  which  struck  me  still  more  forcibly  as  a 
most  extraordinary  perversion  of  the  lessons  of  experience.  Sir, 
I  do  confess  to  you,  that  before  any  discussion  had  taken  place, 
in  either  part  of  this  Capitol,  on  the  subject  before  you — long  be- 
fore I  had  heard  of  that  allusion  to  the  Qucestor,  referred  to  the 
other  day  by  my  eloquent  friend  from  New- York,  Mr.  Hoffman, 
at  the  bare  stating  of  this  project  in  its  first  conception  and  most 

*  Mr.  McDuffie.  Report  of  the  Committee  of  Ways  and  Means,  in  1831.  Mr. 
Gallatin  remarks  of  this  system  of  Sub-treasuries,  presented  as  an  alternative  to 
a  Bank  of  the  United  States,  in  his  celebrated  pamphlet  on  that  subject,  that, 
"with  the  exception  of  the  power  of  receiving  private  deposites,  the  object  of 
which  provision  is  not  perceived,  this  is  precisely  the  species  of  National  Bank 
which  has  been  suggested  in  the  President's  last  Message  (1830).  The  question 
whether  the  purchase  of  drafts  would,  as  we  think,  be  a.  charge  on  the  treasury, 
or  prove,  as  seems  to  be  expected,  a  source  of  profit,  is  one  of  secondary  impor- 
tance. It  is  sufficient  to  observe  that  the  issues  of  the  State  Banks  could  not,  nor 
indeed  is  it  expected  that  they  could,  be  checked  by  this  plan." 


294  SPIRIT  OF  THE  SUB-TREASURY. 

general  outlines,  certain  images  presented  themselves  to  my  mind 
and  have  ever  since  haunted  it,  in  spite  of  all  I  could  do  to  ban- 
ish them.  They  were  ideas  that,  in  my  simple  way  of  consider- 
ing such  matters,  shocked  and  alarmed  me — ideas  of  Roman  con- 
quest and  Asiatic  despotism.  I  thought  of  that  most  fearful  of 
all  things,  a  vast  empire,  with  power  centralizing  at  its  capital, 
with  commerce  centralized  by  the  inevitable  course  of  trade, 
which  always  and  every  where  tends  to  centralization,  at  some 
great  emporium,  with  its  revenues  collected  only  in  gold  and  sil- 
ver, to  be  hoarded,  as  was  the  way  at  Rome  and  Babylon,  or 
Persepolis.  I  fancied  I  could  see  one  of  the  Proconsuls  or  Prae- 
tors—the  Bashaws  of  the  Republic,  as  Montesquieu  so  justly 
calls  them — Verres,  for  example — going  forth  with  that  same 
Quaestor,  surrounded  with  an  army  of  publicans  or  farmers  of 
the  revenue,  to  gather  the  dues  of  Rome  in  some  devoted  pro- 
vince— another  Sicily — as  dues  were  wont  to  be  gathered  by  the 
Satraps  of  that  military  commonwealth,  that  is  to  say,  wrung 
with  their  blood  from  subjugated  nations,  whose  pleasant  places 
were  laid  waste,  without  remorse,  to  glut  the  rapacity  of  con- 
quest. Sir,  I  little  imagined  that  such  a  system  would  have  been 
cited,  nay,  alluded  to,  in  this  age,  except  with  a  view  to  inspire 
the  horror  and  execration  it  is  so  well  calculated  to  excite.  Ro- 
man example  !  "The  Demon  City,"  (as  it  has  been  well  called 
by  a  writer  of  genius,*)  whose  whole  history,  from  beginning  to 
end,  is  a  tragedy  far  deeper  and  more  dreadful  than  the  tale  of 
CEdipus  or  the  Atridae,  and  leading  to  a  catastrophe  of  an  awful 
political  justice.  Why,  sir,  there  is  nothing  in  the  annals  of 
Mongolian  conquest,  worse  than  the  ravages  perpetrated  by  her 
consuls — by  Mummius,  Paulus  iEmilius,  Sylla — in  some  of  the 
fairest  and  most  civilized  portions  of  the  earth.  There  were 
flourishing  countries,  whose  fertility  and  population  were  ex- 
hausted by  a  perpetual  drain  of  corn  and  gladiators  to  feed  her 
lazy  and  licentious  populace,  and  amuse  them  with  the  unutter- 
able atrocities  of  her  amphitheatre.  And  what  was  the  end  of 
all  this  misrule?  Weakness,  poverty,  desolation,  barbarism — 
the  Goth,  the  Vandal,  the  Hun.  Yet  long  before  the  footstep  of 
a  barbarian  had  been  impressed  upon  the  soil  of  the  empire,  as 
Gibbon  has  well  remarked,  long  before  that  scourge  of  God,  under 
whose  horses'  hoof  the  grass  was  said  never  to  grow  again,  had 
been  sent,  to  avenge  the  wrongs  of  mankind,  in  the  course  of  half 
a  century  after  Constantiue  had  founded  a  new  Rome,  whole 
tracts  of  fertile  country  had  been  completely  depopulated  and 
abandoned.!  Even  of  that  paradise  of  all  this  earth,  on  which 
poetry  and  panegyric  have  been  exhausted  in  every  age,  in  all 

*  Herder, 
[t  See  the  remarkable  passage  in  Plutarch  <le  defedu  oracidorum,  c.  viii.,  as  to 
the  depopulation  of  Greece.] 


SPIRIT  OF  THE  SUB-TREASURY.  295 

languages,  the  Campania  felix,  a  very  considerable  portion  was 
become  a  waste.  Nor,  sir,  was  this  owing  only  to  the  despotism 
of  the  Caesars,  as  an  excellent  writer  has  well  observed,*  in  re- 
ference to  this  passage  of  the  "Decline  and  Fall,"  and  as  this 
committee  will  do  well  to  remark.  There  co-operated  with  that 
misgovernment  a  curse  which  has  been  said,  and  is  thus  proved, 
to  be  worse  than  "the  inclemency  of  the  seasons  and  the  bar- 
renness of  the  earth,"t  a  decreasing  currency.  The  supply  of 
the  precious  metals  had  been  for  upwards  of  two  centuries  con- 
tinually diminishing,  while  the  quantity  of  them  sent  in  quest 
of  luxuries  to  the  East,  to  return  no  more,  had  been  increasing 
in  the  same  proportion,  and  a  revenue  of  £15  or  20,000,000  was 
constantly  levied,  in  gold  and  silver,  to  be  expended  at  a  distant 
capital,  or  on  the  frontiers.  This  important  fact  speaks  volumes 
to  us  on  this  subject.  It  is  unquestionably  true  that  one  of  the 
greatest  calamities  of  the  declining  empire  was  a  circulation 
diminishing  so  frightfully  that  the  pay  of  a  general,  in  the  third 
century,  was  nominally  not  higher  than  that  of  a  private  had 
been  in  the  reign  of  Augustus. %  So  much  for  the  Roman  Sub- 
Treasury  System,  and  the  example  of  the  Quaestor ! 

But,  sir,  another  objection  to  the  present  system  is  that  it  leads 
to  fluctuations  in  the  currency ;  and  that  brings  me  to  consider 
the  general  effects  of  the  Credit  System  upon  the  prosperity 
of  the  country. 

I  begin  by  admitting  that  there  is  something  in  this  objection, 
but  by  no  means  as  much  as  is  thought  by  persons  who  have 
not  very  attentively  considered  the  subject.  Undoubtedly  if 
your  revenue,  instead  of  being  uniform,  or  at  least  varying  very 
little  from  year  to  year,  be  permitted  to  fluctuate  extremely — if 
a  great  surplus  like  that  of  which  you  disposed  last  year  is  to  be 
allowed  ever  and  anon  to  accumulate,  and  then  to  be  withdrawn 
from  one  depository  and  scattered  among  many  others,  to  be 
again  suddenly  withdrawn  from  them,  and  ultimately  distribu- 
ted without  reference  to  the  wants  of  commerce  and  the  course  of 
business,  but  on  merely  arbitrary  principles,  among  the  States — 
if  such  financial  blunders  are  to  be  repeated  often  in  our  future 
policy,  we  should  do  well  to  confine  the  effects  of  them  within 
as  narrow  limits  as  possible,  and  even  a  system  of  hoarding 
might,  in  such  a  case,  perhaps,  do  less  harm  than  all  this  vexa- 
tious irregularity  and  uncertainty.  But  in  the  first  place,  whose 
fault  was  that  ?  Whose  legislation  occasioned  that  preposterous 
accumulation  I  Whose  unequal  and  oppressive  tariffs  extorted 
from  commerce  the  vast  sums  which  were  afterwards  to  be  lav- 
ished upon  it  with  such  intoxicating  effects?  Yours,  sir, — this 
House,  this  Congress  is  responsible  for  whatever  mischiefs  grew 
out  of  that  strange  anomaly.  Let  the  blame  light  upon  the  heads 
*  Jacobs.  t  Ad.  Smith.  \  Herder. 


296  SPIRIT  OF  THE  SUB-TREASURY. 

of  the  guilty.  I  trust  in  God  we  are  not  destined  soon  to  see  an- 
other such  surplus — and  if  we  should,  most  certainly  I  should 
expect  proper  precautions  to  be  adopted  to  prevent  its  operating 
again  so  powerfully  to  derange  the  business  of  the  country.  But 
what  sort  of  argument  is  it  against  the  comparatively  moderate 
deposites  made  in  the  ordinary  course  of  things  by  the  govern- 
ment, to  recompense  the  banks  for  their  services  as  fiscal  agents, 
and  make  taxation  less  oppressive,  that  an  enormous  accumula- 
tion like  that  referred  to,  so  capriciously  disposed  of,  so  violently 
transferred  from  one  place  to  another,  produced  much  evil  7 
And  here,  sir,  I  beg  to  ask  gentlemen,  whether  it  has  ever  oc- 
curred to  them  to  imagine  what  would  have  been  the  effect — 
what  would  always  be  the  effect  of  such  an  accumulation,  if  it 
had  been  in  gold  and  silver  ?*  What  if  our  revenues  should 
ever  again  amount  to  what  they  were  in  1815?  Will  any  man 
undertake  to  say  that  the  abstraction  from  the  circulation  of  the 
commercial  world  of  so  large  a  sum  as  forty  or  fifty  millions  of 
specie  would  not,  at  any  time,  occasion  a  serious  derangement  of 
business  and  fall  of  prices  at  home  and  abroad,  attended  with  all 
the  usual  evils  of  such  an  event?  I  shall  advert,  hereafter,  more 
particularly  to  the  important  subject  of  the  supply  of  the  precious 
metals  for  the  purposes  of  commerce ;  but  I  here  call  the  attention 
of  the  committee  to  a  view  of  it  that  is  entitled  to  their  profound 
consideration.  If  I  do  not  greatly  err  in  all  the  conclusions  to 
which  I  have  been  brought  by  my  researches  in  this  matter,  no 
calculation  can  be  made  of  the  effect  which  the  adoption — I  will 
not  say  of  the  "hard  money  system,"  but  of  any  system  what- 
ever, calling  for  a  much  greater  demand  of  the  precious  metals — 
might  have  upon  the  state  of  trade. 

Sir,  I  have  said  that  the  importance  of  these  fluctuations  in 
the  paper  currency  of  a  country  have  been  much  overrated. 
Some  people  seem  to  think  an  expansion  in  the  circulating  me- 
dium must  always  be  attended  with  a  sudden  rise  in  prices  and 
a  spirit  of  extravagant  speculation.  But  it  is  not  so.  Mr.  Tooke 
has  shown  that  these  two  things  have  in  fact  very  seldom  coin- 
cided— that  speculation  depends,  in  the  first  instance,  upon  moral 
causes  wholly  unconnected  with  the  state  of  the  currency;  and, 
although  an  abundance  of  money  may,  and  does  aggravate  the 
evil  where  its  exists,  yet,  by  itself,  it  never  leads  to  any  excite- 
ment. Take  any  example  of  a  commercial  crisis  you  please, 
and  you  will  find  that  there  were  extraordinary  circumstan- 
ces which  acted  on  the  imaginations  of  men — florid  pictures 
of  general  prosperity,  bright  visions  of  possible  success  in  new 
channels  of  trade,  and  adventures  as  yet  untried.  There  is  a  re- 
markable proof  of  this  in  the  terrible  convulsion  in  England  in 
1825,  the  most  serious  perhaps,  that  she  had  ever  passed  through. 
[*  See  a  case  in  point  Tacit.  Annal.  vi.  17.] 


SPIRIT  OF  THE  SUB-TREASURY.  297 

In  1822,  there  was  a  most  depressed  state  of  prices  below  the 
cost  of  production.  The  lowering  of  the  interest  on  an  immense 
amount  of  government  stock,  in  1823  and  '24,  engendered  an 
impatient  desire  of  more  profitable  investments.  Then  came 
the  acknowledgment  of  the  independence  of  the  South  Ameri- 
can States,  with  hopes  of  advantageous  loans  to  the  new  go- 
vernments, of  great  mining  speculations,  and  of  a  vast  extension 
of  all  branches  of  trade,  upon  which  that  great  political  event, 
it  was  supposed,  could  not  fail  to  produce  sudden  and  incalcu- 
lable effects.  The  spirit  of  adventure,  thus  awakened,  soon  spread 
itself  abroad  over  every  department  of  commerce,  and  a  moral 
epidemic,  as  it  has  been  well  termed,  broke  out,  such  as  no  po- 
licy of  government,  of  free  government  at  least,  could  possibly 
control.  But  the  same  excitement  would  have  occurred,  had 
the  circulation  of  England  been  metallic ;  and,  sir,  a  proof  of  it 
is  to  be  found  in  the  fact,  that,  owing  to  long  series  of  good  har- 
vests, and  to  the  preparations  which  the  Bank  of  England  had 
been  making  to  substitute  gold  for  the  small  notes  which  still 
circulated  in  1824,  her  treasure  was  unusually  large,  (something 
like  £14  millions,  instead  of  £10,  its  regular  maximum,)  and,  so 
far  as  her  issues  had  any  thing  to  do  with  exciting  the  spirit  of 
circulation,  it  was  not  a  deficiency,  but  an  excess  of  bullion  that 
occasioned  the  mischief — just  as  the  case  in  this  country  during 
the  last  two  years.  I  say,  sir,  this  spirit  of  speculation  is  inci- 
dent to  the  adventurous  operations  of  commerce,  and  it  makes 
no  difference  whether  those  operations  be  carried  on  in  specie  or 
in  paper.  The  gentleman  from  Pennsylvania,  who  sits  near 
me,  (Mr.  Sergeant,)  anticipated  me  in  citing  the  example  of 
the  famous  bubble  year  in  England,  (1721,)  when,  as  he  justly 
remarked,  the  circulation  of  that  country  might  be  considered  as 
almost  exclusively  metallic,  for  the  issues  of  the  bank  were  what 
they  had  been  for  some  years  before,  only  about  £2  millions,  and 
not  more  than  half  what  they  were  a  few  years  after,  in  a  state 
of  perfect  calm.  But  1  will  add  another  instance,  a  most  memo- 
rable and  instructive  one,  from  our  own  history.  If  this  country 
has  ever  been  blessed  with  a  purely  metallic  currency,  it  was 
shortly  after  the  peace  of  'S3,  and  from  that  epoch  until  the 
establishment  of  the  first  Bank  of  the  United  States;  and,  sir,  if 
a  man  were  called  to  point  out  that  era  in  its  history  in  which 
its  pecuniary  condition  was  most  deplorable,  he  would,  without 
hesitation,  name  that.  There  was  a  want  of  money  even  to 
transact  the  ordinary  business  of  life;  a  good  portion  of  the  little 
trade  left  us  was  carried  on  by  barter;*  industry  was  languishing 
for  want  of  the  means  of  exchanging  its  products ;  nobody  had 
any  credit;  all  was  embarrassment,  despondency,  and  gloom.  In 
the  midst  of  all  this  distress  there  was  a  cry,  not  for  hard  money, 
*  Washington's  Writings,  vol.  ix.     Hamilton's  Report  on  the  Bank  in  '90. 

vol.  i. — 38 


29S  SPIRIT  OF  THE  SUB-TREASURY. 

as  in  the  present  crisis — they  had  enough  of  that,  in  one  sense,  at 
least — but  for  the  good,  old  fashioned  paper-money  issued  by  the 
States* — and  the  discontents  of  some  ol  the  boldest  and  most 
active  spirits  of  New-England  broke  out  into  open  revolt  against 
society,  and  seriously  threatened  its  overthrow.  Sir,  never  since 
we  have  been  a  people,  have  we  passed  through  a  period  so  full 
of  perils  of  all  sorts!  Never  was  the  morality  of  the  nation 
put  to  so  severe  a  trial ;  or  its  peace  and  its  institutions,  and  its 
destinies  brought  so  near  to  the  very  edge  of  the  precipice. 
And  what  was  the  immediate  cause  of  all  this  intense  pecuniary 
distress?  Speculation,  sir,  far  wider,  in  proportion,  than  any 
that  has  since  occurred.  We  had  imported,  in  the  two  first 
years  after  the  peace,  a  large  amount,  $30,000,000,  against  exports 
of  some  eight  or  nine  millions.  Look  into  Pitkin's  Statistics. 
And  yet,  with  a  fact  from  our  own  history,  so  important,  so  an 
thentic,  so  full  of  instruction  on  all  the  points  involved  in  this 
discussion,  you  hear  able  and  leading  men  speak  of  the  spirit  of 
speculation,  as  something  inseparably  connected  with  paper  mo- 
ney alone.  No,  sir,  it  results  from  what  is  called  the  "course 
of  trade,"  in  its  perpetual  round  of  quiescence — improvement — 
increasing  confidence — prosperity — excitement — over-trading — 
convulsion — stagnation — pressure — distress — ending  in  quies- 
cence again.f  Nor  is  it  by  bank  issues,  even  where  banks  most 
abound,  that  it  is  supplied  with  the  means  of  compassing  its  ob- 
ject. In  1825,  it  is  said  that  mercantile  paper,  to  the  amount  of 
near  $600,000,000,  was  negotiated  in  London.  Mr.  Rothschild 
mentions  that  his  house  received  in  the  course  of  two  months, 
bills  to  the  amount  of  a  million  and  a  half,!  while  the  circulation 
of  the  Bank  of  England,  and  the  country  banks  together,  did 
not  exceed  thirty  millions.  It  is  commercial  credit  and  private 
loans,  that  at  such  periods  encourage  and  sustain  those  great  and 
perilous  operations — not  banks,  not  bank  notes,  not  redundant 
currency,  strictly  so  called. 

But  if  banks  do  not  occasion  such  excitements,  they,  on  the 
other  hand,  greatly  mitigate  the  effects  of  the  revulsion  that 
follows.  We  had  no  banks  in  this  country  in  '86,  to  help  the 
people  in  their  distress,  as  the  Bank  of  England  aided  and  saved 
the  commercial  community  of  England  in  1825. 

But  let  us  look  a  little  more  closely  into  the  causes  of  the  late 
excitement  in  the  moneyed  and  commercial  interests  of  this 
country.  In  my  opinion,  they  have  been  too  partially  con- 
sidered, and  we  have  added  to  our  other  misfortunes  mutual 
reproaches,  which  are  certainly,  (I  speak  of  it  with  the  profound- 
est  deference  for  the  very  able  persons  with  whom  I  differ,)  not 
all  of  them  well  founded.     The  merchants,  as  a  body,  have  been 

[*  In  South-Carolina  the  Paper  Medium  Lo.in  Office.] 

t  Mr.  S.  Jones  Lloyd.  \  "Minutes  of  Evidence,"  &c,  in  183*2. 


SPIRIT  OP  THE  SUB-TREASURY.  299 

censured  for  imprudent  and  profligate  speculation.  They,  in 
turn,  accuse  the  government,  of  a  wanton  aud  even  wicked 
tampering:  with  the  great  interests  of  commerce,  which  govern- 
ments seldom  touch  without  doing  some  mischief.  Sir,  I  do  not 
think  this  a  fit  occasion  for  angry  recrimination,  and  having  been 
absent  during  the  conflict,  to  which  I  allude,  I  desire  to  mingle 
as  little  as  possible  in  the  passions  of  the  past.  1  must  say, 
however,  that  I  incline  to  believe  more  importance  has  been 
attached  to  the  Specie  Circular  in  a  mere  economical  point  of 
view — I  say  nothing  of  its  political  character — than  it  deserves. 
I  do  not  mean  to  affirm  that  it  had  not  its  share  in  adding  to  the 
embarrassments  of  the  money  market  after  the  revulsion  had 
begun.  But  the  tide  had  turned  before.  That  paper  was  issued 
here  on  the  11th  July,  1836.  Now.  as  early  as  the  1st  of  July, 
the  Bank  of  England  had  felt  itself  constrained  to  adopt  a  course 
which  led  to  an  instant  fall  of  prices,  and  this  fall  of  prices  was 
in  a  short  time  as  much  as  20  or  30  per  cent.  Mr.  Horsley 
Palmer,  in  the  pamphlet  already  alluded  to,  admits  the  fact,  and 
justifies  the  proceeding.  Habes  confitentem  reum*  Now,  sir, 
be  pleased  to,  consider  what  frightful  havoc  a  loss  of  20  or  30 
per  cent.,  on  1,500,000  bales  of  cotton  alone,  would  occasion  in 
the  commercial  world,  especially  when  such  a  terrible  deficit 
happens  to  be  accompanied  by  a  contraction  of  bank  issues  and 
great  scarcity  in  the  money  market,  at  a  period  of  prodigious 
excitement  in  every  branch  of  trade,  (for  it  is  then  only  that 
contractions  are  dangerous,)  and  of  speculative  investments  in 
every  sort  of  enterprise.  The  Bank  of  England,  through  its 
deputy  governor,  alleges,  in  justification  of  its  course,  that  its 
treasure,  which  was  just  beginning  to  recover  from  the  drain  oc- 
casioned by  speculations  in  Spanish  and  Portuguese  funds  dur- 
ing the  year  1834 — another  phrenzy  of  the  times,  that  led  to  a 
catastrophe  which  I  witnessed  in  the  spring  of  1835,  and  in 
hard  money  countries  too — was  again  reduced  by  drafts  made 
upon  it  for  various  purposes  in  America  to  the  amount  of 
£2,600,000.  Of  this  amount,  £1,200,000  was  borrowed  for  the 
Bank  of  the  United  States,  and  the  rest  came  over  to  be  laid  out, 
no  doubt,  in  canal  and  railway  or  bank  stock :  or,  to  supply,  as 
Mr.  Palmer  supposes,  the  vacuum  in  our  circulation  occasioned 
by  the  prohibition  in  some  of  the  States  of  small  notes,  or  the 
new  demand  for  gold  consequent  upon  the  change  introduced 
by  the  gold  bill  in  the  session  of  '35.  Sir,  as  the  guardian  of 
the  currency  of  England,  the  bank   was,  no  doubt,  on  strict 

*  The  Causes  and  Consequences  of  the  Pressure  upon  the  Money  Market,  with 
a  statement  of  the  action  of  the  Bank  of  England  from  the  1st  of  October,  1833, 
to  the  27th  of  December,  1836,  by  J.  Horsley  Palmer,  Esq.     London,  1837. 

"The  fall  in  prices  of  almost  all  the  leading  articles  of  raw  produce,  (sugar, 
coffee,  tea,  silk,  cotton,  (fee.)  from  the  1st  of  July  last,  when  the  rate  of  interest 
was  first  advanced,  has  not  been  less  than  from  20  to  30  per  cent."     p.  23. 


300  SPIRIT  OP  THE  SUB-TREASURY. 

principle,  justified  in  pursuing  that  cautious  policy,  in  imposing 
a  salutary  check  upon  speculation ;  but  I  have  very  great  doubts 
whether  it  did  not  begin  too  late  and  go  too  far;  and  whether  its 
sudden  and  rather  violent  interference  with  the  natural  course  of 
things,  has  not  been  attended,  in  England  as  well  as  in  this  coun- 
try, with  evil  consequences  that  might  have  been  avoided,  or  at 
least  very  much  mitigated,  had  exchanges  been  left  to  correct 
themselves,  as  they  have  a  natural  tendency  to  do.  It  is  a  circum- 
stance worthy  of  the  particular  attention  of  the  committee — and 
I  advert  to  it  to  show  that  nothing  can  be  more  unjust  than  the 
charge  of  profligate  speculation  made  against  the  great  body  of 
our  merchants,  (however,  individuals  may  deserve  censure,) — 
that,  from  1831  until  late  in  the  autumn  of  1830,  exchange  with 
Europe  never  fell  below,  and  was  often  much  above  par,  al- 
though the  apparent  balance  of  trade  was  during  that  period 
steadily  and  greatly  against  us.  Sir,  this  singular  phenomenon 
is  now  satisfactorily  explained.  We  know  that  it  was  owing  to 
immense  investments  of  British  capital  (much  of  it,  no  doubt, 
sent  over  in  the  shape  of  goods,)  in  the  United  States,  quite  in- 
dependent of  the  ordinary  commercial  balance.  For  example,  a 
run  was  made  upon  the  Bank  of  England  in  May,  1832,  during 
the  agitation  that  accompanied  the  passing  of  the  Reform  Bill, 
to  the  amount  of  £2,000,000  ;  which  never  returned  to  the  bank 
and  was  supposed  to  have  been  hoarded,  but  which  I  believe 
came  hither.  This  circumstance  was  at  the  time,  attributed  to 
a  political  trick  to  prejudice  the  minds  of  the  people  against  the 
great  measure  then  before  Parliament.  I  have  reason,  however, 
to  know,  that  the  panic  was  by  no  means  feigned — that  appre- 
hensions of  revolution  were  seriously  entertained  by  many  of 
the  higher  classes  in  England — and,  as  the  payment  of  our  na- 
tional debt  and  our  immense  prosperity,  had  called  the  attention 
of  European  capitalists  to  this  country,  large  amounts  were  sent 
hither,  not  only  in  quest  of  higher  interest,  but  as  a  safer  invest- 
ment than  could  be  made  at  home — for  in  the  present  state  of 
the  world,  capital  will  go  abroad  in  spite  of  all  the  contrivances 
of  government,  recommended,  I  regret  to  say,  by  Mr.  Palmer, 
to  prevent  its  seeking  more  profitable  employment  there.  We 
know  all  this  now,  and  we  see  what  this  vast  influx  of  British 
gold  and  British  credit  had  to  do  with  prices  and  speculation 
here — but  who  saw  it  then  ?  How  was  the  merchant  to  know 
what  was  at  hand  ?  that  the  ground  upon  which  he  was  stand- 
ing covered  an  abyss  that  was  so  soon  to  open  and  swallow 
him  up — that  the  scene  of  most  flattering  prosperity,  which  had 
for  five  years  excited  and  entranced  his  senses,  was  to  vanish 
like  a  dream  at  the  touch  of  a  foreign  power'/ 

A  great  many  circumstances  conspired  to  keep  up  the  delusion, 
and  even  some  which  one  might  have  thought  would  produce 


SPIRIT  OF  THE  SUB-TREASURY.  301 

the  very  opposite  effect.  Thus  the  removal  of  the  deposites,  and 
the  panic  and  contraction  in  1834,  consequent  upon  that  measure, 
led  to  further  importations  of  the  precious  metals,  and  accord- 
ingly it  appears  that  there  was  an  accession  of  nearly  12  millions 
of  specie  in  that  single  year.  A  metallic  basis  was  thus  formed 
for  the  inordinate  number  of  banks,  chartered  by  the  State  Legis- 
latures, to  supply  the  place  of  the  United  States ^Bank  ;  and  still 
great  aliment  was  added  to  the  spirit  of  speculation,  already  ex- 
cited by  the  high  prices  of  produce  in  England,  and  the  unpre- 
cedented demands  for  the  public  lands  in  the  West  by  emigration 
from  abroad.  The  idea  that  an  excessive  circulation  was  the 
sole  cause  of  all  the  mischief,  an  idea  encouraged  both  by  the 
friends  of  a  national  bank,  and  by  the  enemies  of  all  banks,  ap- 
pears to  me  entirely  fallacious.  It  is  vain  to  state,  as  is  so  con- 
tinually done  in  such  discussions,  the  amount  of  currency  at 
one  period,  and  to  compare  it  with  that  amount  at  another,  with- 
out any  reference  to  the  amount  or  the  prices  of  the  commodi- 
ties it  has  to  circulate.  No  sound  inference  can  be  drawn  from 
the  naked  fact  of  such  a  difference.  For  instance,  had  the  price 
of  produce  riot  fallen  in  the  English  market ;  had  the  cotton 
crop  been  worth  $  SO  or  90,000.000,  instead  of  being  fallen  to 
half  the  former  sum,  it  is  manifest  that  it  would  have  required, 
ceteris  paribus,  twice  the  amount  of  circulation  to  effect  the 
usual  exchanges  in  it.  Not  only  so,  but,  in  periods  of  great  ex- 
citement, it  is  not  merely  the  products  of  our  industry  that  we 
sell,  it  is  not  simply  the  annual  income  of  the  land  and  labor  of 
the  country  that  is  exchanged,  but  the  very  soil  itself,  the  whole 
country  with  all  that  it  contains,  is  in  the  market.  This,  to  the 
extent  to  which  it  is  carried,  is  a  peculiarity  of  our  people.  Sir, 
I  do  not  mention  this  as  a  very  prepossessing  or  honorable  trait 
in  our  character — I  mention  it  simply  as  a  fact.  We  have  no 
local  attachments,  generally  speaking1 — nothing  bears  the  preti- 
um  affectionis  in  our  eyes.  If  an  estate,  a  residence  in  town,  a 
country  seat,  rises  a  little  beyond  what  we  are  accustomed  to 
think  its  value,  it  is  sold  without  any  hesitation.  Accordingly, 
there  is  in  such  times  a  capacity  for  absorbing  an  expanded  cur- 
rency in  this  country,  greater  perhaps,  in  proportion  than  was 
ever  known  in  any  other  country.  I  am  of  opinion,  therefore, 
that  prices  in  the  United  States  were,  in  general,  not  relatively 
much  higher  than  elsewhere  during  the  last  two  years,  except  in 
cases  where,  on  the  usual  relation  of  demand  and  supply,  it  was 
easy  to  account  for  their  being  so.  By  far  the  greatest  amount 
of  speculation,  too,  no  doubt  was  carried  on  in  private  paper. 
But  of  course,  as  soon  as  a  fall  took  place  in  that  great  leading 
staple  commodity  in  which  we  pay  our  foreign  debts,  and  of 
which  the  value  affects  that  of  almost  every  thing  else  in  the 
country,  and  that,  too,  to  so  fearful  an  amount  as  $30  or  40,000.- 


302  SPIRIT  OF  THE  SUB-TREASURY. 

000,  the  currency  became  (before  the  late  contraction)  at  once 
redundant.  It  was  precisely  as  if  property  to  the  value  of  3  or 
400,000,000  had  been  swallowed  up  in  the  sea,  for  it  destroyed 
the  income  of  property  to  that  amount. 

From  this  view  of  the  causes  that  led  to  the  present  distress, 
I  do  not  see  what  inference  can  be  drawn  from  it,  unfavorable  to 
the  connection  that  has  always  subsisted  between  the  govern- 
ment and  the  banks.  It  is  one  of  those  extraordinary  revulsions 
to  which  the  adventurous  spirit  of  commerce  will  always  be  ex- 
posed, organize  your  currency  as  you  will,  and  take  what  pains 
you  please  to  diminish  the  sources  of  excitement.  In  this  coun- 
try, especially,  holding  out  so  many  temptations  to  foreign  capi- 
tal, so  many  hopes  to  enterprize,  such  dazzling  prizes  to  fortu- 
nate speculation,  with  a  people  distinguished  above  all  others  by 
their  intelligence,  sagacity,  activity,  and  boldness  in  affairs,  such 
periods  of  crisis  and  convulsion  are  inevitable,  and  no  mischiefs 
which  they  can  possibly  do  would  be  half  so  bad  as  the  only 
preventive  that  would  insure  us  against  their  occurrence,  the  en- 
tire extinction  of  the  spirit  that  leads  to  them. 

Sir,  to  the  general  declamation  against  banking  we  have  to 
oppose  the  experience  of  the  most  prosperous  nations  in  the 
world  There  is  a  country,  for  instance,  whose  whole  currency 
is  of  paper,  and  where  one  seldom  meets  with  a  piece  of  gold — 
whose  banking  companies,  whether  with  or  without  charter, 
subjected  to  no  restraints  or  control,  but  such  as  spring  out  of  the 
vigilance  of  a  free  and  eager  competition,  have,  for  upwards  of  a 
century  together,  conducted  their  affairs  with  so  much  skill,  in- 
tegrity, and  prudence,  as  not  only  never  to  have  occasioned  any 
loss  either  to  the  public  or  the  parties  interested,  but,  on  the  con- 
trary, by  the  confession  of  all  competent  judges,  to  have  confer- 
red the  greatest  blessings  upon  both — to  have  contributed  more 
than  any  single  cause,  perhaps,  than  all  other  causes  put  together, 
to  bring  out  and  develope  completely  all  the  resources  of  the 
land,  to  foster  industry,  to  animate  enterprize,  and,  by  an  abund- 
ant supply  of  the  means  of  exchange,  to  turn  its  capital  and 
labor  to  the  greatest  possible  account — where,  in  addition  to  these 
economical  advantages,  they  have  contrived  to  exercise  a  high 
moral  control,  a  sort  of  censorial  authority,  over  the  community, 
and  especially  the  humbler  classes  of  it.  by  bestowing  rewards 
in  the  shape  of  credit  upon  industry  and  economy,  and  lending 
upon  good  personal  character  as  if  it  were  solid  capital,  and, 
through  a  system  of  cash  accounts  and  interest  upon  small  de- 
posites,  have  given  to  the  deserving  laborer  the  combined  advan- 
tages of  a  Savings  Bank  and  a  friendly  endorser — a  country, 
which  has  made  greater  progress,  within  the  period  mentioned, 
than  any  other  in  Europe,  with  an  agriculture  second  (if  second) 
only  to  that  of  Flanders,  with  a  flourishing  commerce,  with 


SPIRIT  OP  THE  SUB-TREASURY.  303 

manufactures  of  the  greatest  extent  and  the  most  exquisite  re- 
finement— whose  cities  have  almost  kept  pace  with  ours,  whose 
whole  face  in  its  gladness  and  beauty  bears  testimony  to  the  spi- 
rit of  improvement  that  has  animated  her — what  country  is  that? 
Scotland,  sir.  Every  body  has  heard,  or  ought  to  have  heard, 
of  the  Scotch  system  of  banking,  and  I  ask  if  any  thing  can  be 
more  irreconcilable  with  the  theories  so  confidently  advanced 
here,  than  the  facts  connected  with  its  history  ?  I  know,  sir,  what 
may  be  said  in  reply  to  this  otherwise  triumphant  example.  I 
am  aware  that  the  Scotch  banks^have,  in  times  of  pressure,  been 
compelled  to  lean  upon  the  Bank  of  England — that  objections 
have  been  made,  by  high  authorities,  to  the  principles  on  which 
they  have  been  conducted,  and  that  other  persons,  admitting  their 
unquestionable  usefulness  and  success,  have  ascribed  it  to  cir- 
cumstances which  render  the  system  an  unfit  model  for  imita- 
tion elsewhere.  Be  it  so.  But  still  it  is  banking — banking  on 
the  English  plan,  with  a  very  inadequate  supply,  scarcely  any 
supply,  of  bullion  ;  banking  without  limitation  or  control,  with- 
out any  reference  or  responsibility  to  government — banking,  in 
a  word,  with' all  the  defects  imputed  to  that  system,  in  their  most 
exaggerated  forms. 

But,  if  this  example  be  not  satisfactory,  let  us  look  at  the  expe- 
rience of  the  two  other  countries  in  which  the  system  exists,  as 
we  are  told,  in  its  most  vicious  state — England  and  the  United 
States.  Look  at  the  result.  I  have  no  faith  at  all  in  specu- 
lative politics.  A  theorist  in  government  is  as  dangerous  as  a 
theorist  in  medicine,  or  in  agriculture,  and  for  precisely  the  same 
reason — the  subjects  are  too  complicated  and  too  obscure  for 
simple  and  decisive  experiments.  I  go  for  undisputed  results  in 
the  long  run.  Now  surely  a  philosophic  inquirer  into  the  history 
of  the  commerce  and  public  economy  of  nations,  if  he  saw  a 
people  pre-eminently  distinguished  in  those  particulars  above  all 
others,  would  be  inclined  to  ascribe  their  superiority  to  what  was 
peculiar  in  their  institutions ;  at  least,  whatever  might  be  his 
ideas  a  priori  on  such  subjects,  he  would  be  very  slow  to  deny 
to  any  remarkable  peculiarity  in  those  institutions  its  full  impor- 
tance as  one  of  the  probable  causes  of  the  success  which  he  wit- 
nessed, unless  he  could  clearly  show  the  contrary.  Then,  sir, 
by  what  example  are  we  to  be  guided  in  such  matters  if  not  by 
that  of  England — by  far  the  most  magnificent  manifestation,  that 
the  world,  in  any  age  of  it,  has  ever  beheld,  of  the  might  and 
the  grandeur  of  civilized  life.  Sir,  I  have  weighed  every  sylla- 
ble that  I  utter — I  express  a  deliberate  conviction,  founded  upon 
a  patient  inquiry  and  a  comparison  as  complete,  as  my  limited 
knowledge  has  enabled  me  to  make  it,  between  the  past  and  pre- 
sent condition  of  mankind,  and  between  the  great  nation  of 
which  I  am   speaking   and    those    which   surround   her.     Sir, 


304  SPIRIT  OF  THE  SUB-TREASURY. 

there  is  a  gulph  between  them — that  narrow  channel  separates 
worlds — it  is  an  ocean  more  than  three  thousand  miles  wide.  1 
appeal  to  any  one  who  has  been  abroad,  whether  going  from 
England  to  any  part  of  the  continent — be  not  descending  im- 
mensely in  the  scale  of  civilization.  I  know,  sir,  that  that  word 
is  an  ambiguous  one.  I  know  that,  in  some  of  the  graces  of  pol- 
ished society,  in  some  of  the  arts  of  an  elegant  imagination,  that, 
in  the  exact  sciences  and  in  mere  learning  and  general  intellec- 
tual cultivation,  some  nations  have  excelled,  perhaps,  many 
equalled.  England.  But,  in  that  civilization,  which,  as  I  have  said 
before,  it  is  the  great  end  of  modern  political  economy  to  promote, 
and  which  is  immediately  connected  with  the  subject  before 
you — which  at  once  springs  out  of,  and  leads  to,  the  accumula- 
tion of  capital  and  the  distribution  of  wealth  and  comfort  through 
all  classes  of  a  community,  with  an  immense  aggregate  of  national 
power  and  resources — that  civilization  which  enables  man  to 
"wield  these  elements,  and  arm  him  with  the  force  of  all  their 
legions,"  which  gives  him  dominion  over  all  other  creatures,  and 
makes  him  emphatically  the  Lord  of  the  Universe — that  civili- 
zation which  consists  not  in  music,  not  in  playing  on  the  flute, 
as  the  Athenian  hero  said,  but  in  turning  a  small  city  into  a  great 
one  ;  in  that  victorious,  triumphant,  irresistible  civilization,  there 
is  nothing  recorded  in  the  annals  of  mankind  that  does  not  sink 
into  the  shades  of  the  deepest  eclipse  by  the  side  of  England. 
I  say  nothing  of  her  recent  achievements  on  the  land  and  the 
sea ;  of  her  fleets,  her  armies,  her  subsidised  allies.  Look  at  the 
Thames  crowded  with  shipping ;  visit  her  arsenals,  her  docks, 
her  canals,  her  railways,  her  factories,  her  mines,  her  warehouses, 
her  roads,  and  bridges ;  go  through  the  streets  of  that  wonderful 
metropolis,  the  bank,  the  emporium,  and  the  exchange  of  the 
whole  world ;  converse  with  those  merchants  who  conduct  and 
control,  as  far  as  it  is  possible  to  control,  the  commerce  of  all 
nations,  with  those  manufacturers  who  fill  every  market  with 
their  unrivalled  products ;  go  into  that  bank  which  is  the  reposi- 
tory of  the  precious  metals  for  all  Europe  ;  consider  its  notes  as 
well  as  the  bills  of  private  bankers,  at  a  premium  every  where, 
more  valuable  than  specie,  symbols  not  merely  of  gold,  but  of 
what  is  far  more  precious  than  gold,  yea,  than  fine  gold,  of  per- 
fect good  faith,  of  unblemished  integrity,  of  sagacious  enterprise, 
of  steadfast,  persevering  industry,  of  boundless  wealth,  of  busi- 
ness co-extensive  with  the  earth,  and  of  all  these  things  possess- 
ed, exercised,  enjoyed,  protected  under  a  system  of  liberty  chas- 
tened by  the  law  which  maintains  it,  and  of  law  softened  and 
mitigated  by  the  spirit  of  liberty  which  it  breathes  throughout. 
Sir,  I  know,  as  well  as  any  one,  what  compensations  there  are 
for  all  this  opulence  and  power,  for  it  is  the  condition  of  our 
being  that  we  "buy  our  blessings  at  a  price."     I  know  that 


SPIRIT  OP  THE  SUB-TREASURY.  305 

there  are  disturbing  causes  which  have  hitherto  marred,  in  some 
degree,  the  effect  of  this  high  and  mighty  civilization  ;  but  the 
hand  of  reform  has  been  already  applied  to  them,  and  every 
thing  promises  the  most  auspicious  results.  I  have  it  on  the 
most  unquestionable  authority,  because,  from  an  unwilling  wit- 
ness, that  within  the  memory  of  man,  never  were  the  laboring 
classes  of  England  so  universally  employed,  and  so  comfortably 
situated  as  at  the  beginning  of  the  present  year.* 

But  I  said  that  there  was  another  nation  that  had  some  expe- 
rience in  banking  and  its  effects.  Sir,  I  dare  not  trust  myself 
to  speak  of  my  country  with  the  rapture  which  I  habitually  feel 
when  I  contemplate  her  marvellous  history.  But  this  I  will 
say,  that  on  my  return  to  it,  after  an  absence  of  only  four  years, 
I  was  filled  with  wonder  at  all  I  saw  and  all  I  heard.  What 
upon  earth  is  to  be  compared  with  it?  I  found  New-York 
grown  up  to  almost  double  its  former  size,  with  the  air  of  a 
great  capital,  instead  of  a  mere  flourishing  commercial  town,  as 
I  had  known  it.  I  listened  to  accounts  of  voyages  of  a  thou- 
sand miles  in  magnificent  steamboats  on  the  waters  of  those 
great  lakes,  which,  but  the  other  day,  I  left  sleeping  in  the 
primeval  silence  of  nature,  in  the  recesses  of  a  vast  wilderness  ; 
and  I  felt  that  there  is  a  grandeur  and  a  majesty  in  this  irresis- 
tible onward  march  of  a  race,  created,  as  I  believe,  and  elected 
to  possess  and  people  a  continent,  which  belong  to  few  other 
objects,  either  of  the  moral  or  material  world.  We  may  become 
so  much  accustomed  to  such  things  that  they  shall  make  as  little 
impression  upon  our  minds  as  the  glories  of  the  Heavens  above 
us ;  but,  looking  on  them,  lately,  as  with  the  eye  of  the  stran- 
ger, I  felt,  what  a  recent  English  traveller  is  said  to  have  re- 
marked, that,  far  from  being  without  poetry,  as  some  have  vain- 
ly alleged,  our  whole  country  is  one  great  poem.  Sir,  it  is  so ; 
and  if  there  be  a  man  that  can  think  of  what  is  doing,  in  all 
parts  of  this  most  blessed  of  all  lands,  to  embellish  and  advance 
it,  who  can  contemplate  that  living  mass  of  intelligence,  activ- 
ity and  improvement  as  it  rolls  on,  in  its  sure  and  steady  pro- 
gress, to  the  uttermost  extremities  of  the  west;  who  can  see 
scenes  of  savage  desolation  transformed,  almost  with  the  sud- 
denness of  enchantment,  into  those  of  fruitfulness  and  beauty ; 
crowned  with  flourishing  cities,  filled  with  the  noblest  of  all 
populations ;  if  there  be  a  man,  I  say,  that  can  witness  all  this 
passing  under  his  very  eyes,  without  feeling  his  heart  beat  high, 
and  his  imagination  warmed  and  transported  by  it,  be  sure,  sir, 
that  the  raptures  of  song  exist  not  for  him ;  he  would  listen  in 
vain  to  Tasso  or  Camoens,  telling  a  tale  of  the  wars  of  knights 

♦Westminster  Review  for  January,  1837.    Some  ascribe  the  fact  to  an  ample 
circulation. 

vol.  i. — 39 


306  SPIRIT  OF  THE  SUB-TREASURY. 

and  crusaders,  or  of  the  discovery  and  conquest  of  another 
hemisphere. 

Sir,  thinking  as  I  do  of  these  things — not  doubting,  for  a 
moment,  the  infinite  superiority  of  our  race  in  every  thing  that 
relates  to  a  refined  and  well  ordered  public  economy,  and  in  all 
the  means  and  instruments  of  a  high  social  improvement,  it 
strikes  me  as  of  all  paradoxes  the  most  singular,  to  hear  foreign 
examples  seriously  proposed  for  our  imitation  in  the  very  mat- 
ters wherein  that  superiority  has  ever  appeared  to  me  to  be 
most  unquestionable.  The  reflection  has  occurred  to  me  a 
thousand  times  in  travelling  over  the  continent  of  Europe,  as  1 
passed  through  filthy  ill-paved  villages,  through  towns  in  which 
there  is  no  appearance  of  an  improvement  having  been  made 
since  the  Reformation,  as  I  have  looked  at  the  wretched  hovel 
of  the  poor  peasant  or  artizan,  or  seen  him  at  his  labors  with 
his  clumsy  implements  and  coarse  gear — what  a  change  would 
take  place  in  the  whole  aspect  of  the  country,  if  it  were  to  fall 
in  the  hands  of  Americans  for  a  single  generation ! 

But  is  it  paper  money  and  the  credit  system  alone  that  have 
achieved  all  these  wonders?  I  do  not  say  so,  sir;  but  can  you 
say,  can  any  one  presume  to  say,  that  they  have  not  done  much 
of  all  this?  I  know  that  the  cardinal  spring  and  source  of  our 
success  is  freedom — freedom,  with  the  peculiar  character  that 
belongs  to  ,it  in  our  race — freedom  of  thought,  freedom  of 
speech,  freedom  of  action,  freedom  of  commerce,  freedom  not 
merely  from  the  oppressions,  but  from  those  undue  restraints 
and  that  impertinent  interference  of  government  in  the  interests 
properly  belonging  to  individuals,  which  stand  in  the  way  of 
all  improvement  in  the  nations  of  continental  Europe.  It  is 
this  vital  principle,  the  animating  element  of  social  equality, 
tempered  and  sobered  by  a  profound  respect  for  the  authority  of 
the  laws,  and  for  the  rights  of  others,  and  acting  upon  that 
other  prominent  characteristic  of  the  Anglo-Norman  race,  the 
strong  instinct  of  property,  with  the  personal  independence  and 
personal  comfort  that  belong  to  it — that  explains  our  unrivalled 
and  astonishing  progress.  But  of  this  rational,  diffusive  liberty, 
among  a  people  so  intelligent  as  ours,  the  credit  system  is  the 
natural  fruit,  the  inseparable  companion,  the  necessary  means 
and  instrument.  It  is  part  and  parcel  of  our  existence.  Who- 
ever heard  of  credit  in  a  despotism,  or  an  anarchy?  It  im- 
plies confidence—  confidence  in  yourself,  confidence  in  your 
neighbor,  confidence  in  your  government,  confidence  in  the  ad- 
ministration of  the  laws,  confidence  in  the  sagacity,  the  integ- 
rity, the  discretion  of  those  with  whom  you  have  to  deal  ;  con- 
fidence, in  a  word,  in  your  destiny,  and  your  fortune,  in  the 
destinies  and  the  fortune  of  the  country  to  which  you  belong  ; 


SPIRIT  OF  THE  SUB-TREASURY.  307 

as,  for  instance,  in  the  case  of  a  great  national  debt.  It  is  the 
fruit,  I  say,  of  all  that  is  most  precious  in  civilized  life,  and  to 
quarrel  with  it  is  to  be  ungrateful  to  God  for  some  of  the  great- 
est blessings  he  has  vouchsafed  to  man.  Compare  Asia  with 
Europe  ;  hoarding  has  been  the  usage  of  the  former  from  time 
immemorial,  because  it  is  slavish,  oppressed  and  barbarous ;  and 
it  is  curious  to  see  the  effect  of  English  laws  in  breaking  up  (as 
they  are  doing)  that  system  in  Hindoostan.  Depend  upon  it, 
sir,  all  such  ideas  are  utterly  alien  to  our  way  of  thinking — to 
all  the  habitudes  of  our  people,  and  all  the  interests  of  the 
country.  My  friends  from  beyond  the  mountains  are  familiar 
with  the  great  principle,  the  magical  effect  of  credit  in  a  young 
and  progressive  country.  They  know  that  miracles  are  wrought 
by  a  small  advance  of  money  to  enable  enterprise  and  industry 
to  bring  into  cultivation  a  virgin  soil.  They  know  how  soon 
the  treasures  of  its  unworn  fertility  enable  them  to  pay  off  a  loan 
of  that  sort  with  usurious  interest,  and  make  them  proprietors  of 
estates  rising  in  value  with  the  lapse  of  every  moment.  Com- 
pare the  great  Western  country  now,  with  what  it  was  twenty 
years  ago — sell  it  sub  hasta — and  compute,  if  the  powers  of 
arithmetic  will  enable  you  to  do  so,  the  augmentation  of  its 
riches.  Sir,  this  is  one  of  the  phenomena  of  our  situation  to 
which  attention  has  hardly  ever  been  called — the  manner  in 
which  the  mere  increase  of  population  acts  upon  the  value  of 
property.  To  be  struck  with  the  prodigious  results  produced  in 
this  simple  way,  you  have  only  to  compare  the  estimated  taxable 
property  in  Pennsylvania  and  New-York,  when  it  was  returned 
for  direct  taxation  in  '99,  with  the  returns  of  the  same  property,  for 
the  same  purpose,  in  1813,  after  an  interval  of  fourteen  years* — 
you  will  see  how  it  is  that  our  people  have  been  enriched  by 
debt,  and  "by  owing,  owe  not" — how  with  a  balance  of  pay- 
ments almost  continually  against  them  from  the  first  settlement 
of  the  country,  they  have  grown  in  riches  beyond  all  precedent 
or  parallel.  You  will  appreciate  all  the  blessings  of  the  credit 
system — and  imagine,  perhaps,  how  this  wonderful  progress 
would  have  been  impeded  and  embarrassed  by  the  difficulties 
of  a  metallic  circulation.! 

But  the  fluctuations  of  the  currency — the  ruinous  irregularities 
of  bank  paper!  Why,  sir,  I  have  already  shown  they  belong  to 
commerce  itself,  not  to  the  means  which  it  employs,  and  that 
there  is  no  remedy  for  them.  Rut,  after  all,  what  is  the  sum  of 
the  evil'/  Look  again  at  general  results.  Tell  me  not  that  re- 
actions produce  fewer  disasters,  or  less  extensive  derangements 
of  business  and  circulation  in  countries  whose  money  is  princi- 
pally metallic. — It  may  be  so;  but  what  does  that  prove?     If  you 

*  Pitken's  Statistics,  1835.  t  Mr.  Gallatin's  Pamphlet,  p.  68. 


30S  SPIRIT  OP  THE  SUB-TREASURY. 

never  soar,  you  will  be  in  no  danger  of  falling,  certainly — but 
then, 

Serpit  humi  tutus  nimium  timidus  que  procellce. 

A  go-cart  may  be  a  very  safe  contrivance  for  the  tottering  foot- 
steps of  infancy — but  is  it  thus  that  manly  vigor  is  to  be  trained 
for  the  dust  and  heat  of  the  Olympic  race?  Sir,  it  is  the  condi- 
tion of  all  that  is  grand  and  awakening  in  nature  to  be  somewhat 
wild  and  irregular.  In  the  moral  world,  especially,  peril  and 
difficulty  are  the  price  which  Providence  exacts  of  us  for  all 
great  excellence,  and  all  eminent  success.  It  is  in  struggling 
with  them  that  the  heroic  virtues,  which  elevate  and  pnrify  hu- 
manity, are  called  forth  and  disciplined  ;  and  it  is  precisely  be- 
cause our  people  have  been  trained  in  that  stern  school,  that  they 
have  effected  more,  and  are  now  able  to  effect  more,  with  equal 
means,  than  any  other  in  the  world.  Sir,  it  is  not  our  currency 
only  that  is  obnoxious  to  the  imputation  of  irregularity.  What 
is  democracy,  popular  government  itself?  How  often  has  it 
fallen  to  my  lot  to  defend  it  by  the  very  considerations  which  I 
now  urge  on  a  kindred  topic,  when  foreigners  have  spoken  to 
me  of  the  disorders  that  have  occasionally  checquered  our  his- 
tory. When  they  exaggerated  the  importance  of  such  events, 
I  have  reminded  them  that  all  human  institutions  must  have 
their  imperfections ;  and  that  it  is  by  their  general  effects  in  a 
long  course  of  experience,  not  by  occasional  accidents,  however 
striking  and  important,  that  they  are  to  be  judged.  That  the 
absence  of  restraint,  which  leads  to  occasional  licentiousness, 
fosters  that  bold,  robust,  energetic,  and  adventurous  spirit,  and 
that  habit  of  haughty  self-reliance,  and  independent  judgment, 
which  are  the  very  soul  of  republican  government ;  which  have 
rendered  that  form  of  government,  wherever  it  has  existed,  so 
illustrious  for  heroic  achievements,  and  has  made  every  era  of 
liberty  in  the  history  of  mankind,  even  in  its  most  imperfect  jbrm, 
an  era  of  flourishing  prosperity  and  progress.  Sir,  such  a  people, 
as  has  been  said  of  beings  of  a  higher  order,  "live  throughout, 
vital  in  every  part." 

All  head  they  live,  all  heart,  all  eye,  all  ear, 
•   All  intellect,  all  sense.* 

This  is  the  great  secret  of  our  superiority,  and  that  of  every 
free  people — not  the  forms  of  a  constitution,  not  the  outlines  of 
a  system,  not  mere  organization — but  the  principle  of  life,  the 
all-pervading  animation  and  vitality  that  informs  the  whole  body 
politic,  and  gives  it  the  warmth,  and  strength,  and  activity — the 

[*  Monstrum  horrenduin,  ingens,  cui  quot  sunt  corporc  plumee, 
Tot  vigiles  ocnli  subter,  mirabile  dictu  ; 
Tot  linguae,  totidem  ora  sonant,  tot  subrigit  aures. 

Virgil's  jEneid,  lib.  iv.,  I.  181,  2,  3.] 


SPIRIT  OF  THE  SUB-TREASURY.  309 

winning  graces  and  expressive  countenance  of  a  man,  instead  of 
the  cold  and  repulsive  stillness  of  a  painted  corpse.  Jury-trial 
is  another  of  these  irregularities — liable,  undoubtedly,  to  much 
criticism  in  detail,  scarcely  susceptible,  as  a  judicial  institution, 
of  a  strict  defence  in  theory — yet  what  should  we  think  of  a  re- 
former that  should  propose  to  us  the  abolition  of  a  system  so  full 
of  practical  good,  because  it  was  unknown  until  recently,  any 
where  but  in  England,  and  often  leads,  as  it  certainly  has  often 
led,  to  great  abuse  and  injustice. 

But,  then,  it  seems,  our  banking  system  is  an  innovation,  in- 
troduced only  a  century  and  a  half  ago,  and  deviates  from  the 
primitive  model  of  the  Bank  of  Amsterdam, — the  honest  system, 
as  it  is  called^— and  that  instead  of  lending  money,  it  lends  mere- 
ly credit. 

As  to  the  idea  of  its  being  an  innovation,  I  would  just  remark, 
that  it  had  its  origin  at  that  great  epoch  of  human  improvement, 
as  I  must  still  be  allowed  to  call  it,  when  mankind  ceased  to  cut 
each  other's  throats  for  differences  in  religion,  and  began  to  make 
war  for  colonies  and*  commerce — an  era  perfectly  familiar,  as 
such,  to  every  one  that  has  studied  history  philosophically.  But 
there  is  something  more  in  the  historical  reminiscence  than  the 
mere  fact  just  referred  to.  If  the  comparative  effects  of  Dutch 
and  English  banking  are  to  be  judged  by  the  event,  what  an  in- 
structive lesson  is  to  be  drawn  from  a  parallel  between  those  two 
powers,  at  the  close  of  the  seventeenth  century,  and  their  relation 
towards  each  other  now  !  Where  is  Van  Tromp?  Where  is  De 
Ruyter?  What  is  become  of  the  mighty  fleets  which  disputed 
the  dominion  of  the  seas  with  England  and  France?  Poor 
Holland  !  her  defenceless  ports,  blockaded  by  British  squadrons — 
her  court  brow-beaten  by  British  diplomacy — shorn  of  all  her 
strength  and  glory,  she  seems  almost  sinking  again  into  the  wa- 
ters out  of  which  she  merged.  So  much  for  the  innovation. 
But  what  is  the  objection  to  the  system  ?  Let  us  understand 
each  other.  I  will  put  a  case.  The  quantity  of  the  precious 
metals  required  in  any  transaction,  or  any  number  of  transactions, 
between  two  countries,  (or  two  individuals,  for  it  comes  to  the 
same  thing,)  depends  not  only  upon  the  balance  of  payments 
between  them,  but  also  on  the  confidence  they  have  in  each  other. 
Thus,  Hamburg  imports  corn  for  England  in  a  season  of  dearth, 
from  Prussia.  If  trade  be  prosperous  and  the  world  at  peace, 
she  will  probably  pay  for  this  corn  by  a  bill  at  six  months,  with 
interest,  and  when  the  time  comes  for  meeting  her  engagement, 
she  will  do  so  by  sending  to  Dantzic  a  cargo  of  colonial  produce.* 
But  should  the  times  be  such  (from  war,  commotions,  &c.,)  as 
to  make  commerce  uncertain,  or  to  impair  credit,  the  purchase 
can  be  made  only  for  cash,  and  paid  for  in  gold  and  silver.  Now, 

*  Thornton. 


310  SPIRIT  OP  THE  SUB-TREASURY. 

sir,  commerce  being  a  mere  exchange  of  commodities,  every 
body  must  see,  at  a  glance,  that  it  is  very  much  more  promoted 
by  a  state  of  peace  and  order,  than  by  one  of  war  and  commotion, 
by  a  state  of  confidence,  than  by  one  of  distrust,  by  a  state  of 
things  that  admits  of  payments  in  bills,  than  by  one  that  requires 
payments  in  cash.  In  a  simple  operation,  like  the  one  described, 
this  is  quite  manifest,  and  yet  the  whole  theory  of  money  and 
of  banking,  is  contained  in  that  simple  operation. 

Sir,  it  explains  at  once  why  it  is  that,  in  countries  very  far  ad- 
vanced in  commerce  and  civilization,  the  precious  metals,  for  all 
purposes  of  currency,  are  superseded  by  commercial  paper,  as  is 
particularly  the  case  in  England,  whose  paper  circulation  of  all 
sorts  is  something  like  two  hundred  millions,  resting  upon  a  basis 
of  only  thirty  millions  of  specie.*  Money  is  nothing  more  than 
what  is  called  by  the  brokers  "a  bought  and  sold  note" — it  is  a 
token  which  shows  that  its  holder  has  parted  with  commodities 
to  that  amount,  and  that  he  is  entitled  to  receive  their  equivalent 
in  other  commodities  whenever  it  shall  be  his  pleasure  to  do  so. 
Why  should  that  token  be  of  gold?  Why  should  a  mere  title 
or  evidence  of  debt  be  itself  of  a  material  as  costly  as  the  thing 
of  which  it  is  the  symbol  and  the  evidence  ? 

It  is  clear  that  were  there  any  means  of  insuring  society 
against  excessive  issues  of  paper,  besides  its  convertibility  into 
gold  and  silver — were  not  that  the  only  practical  test  hitherto 
discovered  by  which  prices  in  different  countries  can  be  com- 
pared— all  commercial  nations  would  dispense  with  the  precious 
metals  as  a  medium  of  exchange.  But  as  yet  there  is  no  such 
means,  and  the  currency,  theoretically  the  most  perfect,  is  for  the 
present  impracticable.  The  nearest  approximation  to  it  has  cer- 
tainly been  made  occasionally  in  the  United  States,  where  the 
specie  basis  has  just  answered  the  purpose  of  ascertaining  that 
our  currency  was  on  a  level  with  that  of  other  nations. 

But  there  is  another  step  in  the  commercial  operation  just 
mentioned.  The  holder  of  the  bill  of  exchange,  received  in 
payment  of  corn,  stands  in  need  of  some  other  commodity, 
which  his  own  credit  does  not  enable  him  to  procure.  He  ap- 
plies to  a  banker  or  any  other  capitalist  for  the  cash,  or  what  will 
answer  his  purpose  just  as  well,  his  credit  in  the  shape  of  a  note 
payable  on  demand,  or  at  a  short  date,  for  which  the  original  bill 
at  six  months  is  given  in  exchange,  with  a  reasonable  discount. 
This  last  operation  is  what  is  considered  as  the  great  abomina- 
tion of  banking.  The  bank  receives  a  discount  on  giving  its 
own  bill  payable  on  demand,  or  one  at  a  short  date,  (for  which 
therefore  it  is  compelled  to  reserve  or  prepare  a  fund.)  for  a  bill 
payable  at  six  months,  of  which  of  course  payment  cannot  be  de- 

•Mr.  Burgess  in  the  Minutes  of  Evidence,  &c.,  before  the  Committee  of  the 
House  of  Commons  in  1832. 


SPIRIT  OF  THE  SUB-TREASURY.  311 

manded  until  the  expiration  of  that  term.  And,  now  I  ask, 
where  is  the  difference  between  the  first  operation,  which  every 
body  must  perceive  is  eminently  conducive  to  the  extension  of 
commerce  and  the  last  ?  What  objection  can  be  made  to  it  that 
does  not  lie  equally  against  the  drawing  and  discounting  of  bills 
of  exchange — an  improvement  of  which  Europe  has  been  boast- 
ing for  at  least  six  hundred  years,  and  of  which  the  advantages 
have  never  to  my  knowledge  been  questioned  before  J  Why  is 
not  a  credit  founded  on  property  as  good  in  the  one  case  as  in 
the  other?  and  why  should  gold  and  silver  be  used  in  either 
when  they  are  not  wanted  ? 

The  banking  system,  sir,  is  only  one  form  of  that  division  of 
labor  which  takes  place  in  all  opulent  countries.  It  leads  to  a 
great  economy  both  of  time  and  money— of  the  former,  because 
the  business  of  a  whole  community  in  receiving  and  paying 
away  can  be  transacted  by  the  clerks  of  a  single  institution,  as 
well  as  by  one  hundred  or  one  thousand  times  the  number,  in 
the  separate  employment  of  individual  merchants — of  the  latter, 
because  instead  of  each  individual  in  a  community  reserving  the 
quantity  of  gold  and  silver  necessary  to  meet  current  demands, 
a  much  smaller  proportional  amount  kept  by  a  banking  house 
has  been  found  to  answer  the  wants  of  the  whole  society.  But 
the  utility  of  that  system  is  not  confined  to  the  advantages  just 
mentioned.  It  appears  to  me  very  clear  in  the  first  place,  that 
the  credit  system  carried  to  the  extent  in  which  it  exists  in  Eng- 
land and  the  United  States,  could  not  possibly  be  made  to  rest 
upon  any  thing  so  liable  to  be  disturbed  by  a  foreign  demand, 
and  by  other  contingencies,  as  the  metallic  basis,  and  of  which 
a  given  quantity  cannot  therefore  be  counted  on  at  any  given 
time.  What  is  commonly  called  the  currency  of  a  country,  that 
is  to  say,  bank  paper  and  the  precious  metals,  really  constitutes  a 
very  small  portion  of  it,  but  it  may  be  considered  as  the  test  or 
touchstone  of  all  the  rest,  and,  if  engagements  in  bills  of  exchange 
&c,  be  not  met  according  to  their  tenor  in  what  is  considered  as 
cash,  it  is  difficult  to  calculate  the  effects  of  the  alarm  that  may 
ensue.  But  there  is  another  point  of  view  in  which  banks  ap- 
pear to  me  quite  essential  to  our  commercial  system.  It  is  that, 
according  to  the  remark  o'f  an  excellent  writer,*  the  appreciation 
of  the  credit  of  a  number  of  persons  engaged  in  commerce  has, 
by  means  of  them,  become  a  science,  and  to  the  height  to  which 
that  science  is  now  carried  in  Great  Britain,  (and  in  this  coun- 
try,) that  country  is  in  no  small  degree  indebted  for  the  flourish- 
ing state  of  its  internal  commerce,  for  the  general  reputation  of 
its  merchants  abroad,  and  for  the  preference  which  in  this  res- 
pect they  enjoy  over  the  traders  of  all  other  nations. 

Sir,  I  have  been  driven  to  this  elementary  way  of  considering 
*  Thornton. 


312  SPIRIT  OF  THE  SUB-TREASURY. 

the  subject  by  the  course  whicli  the  argument  has  taken  here 
and  elsewhere,  and  because,  in  solemnly  reviewing,  as  we  are 
now  compelled  to  do,  the  whole  monetary  system  of  the  coun- 
try, it  is  of  the  very  last  importance  that  the  subject,  in  all  its 
aspects,  should  be  fairly  presented  to  the  people.  1  shall  there- 
fore proceed  briefly  to  consider  the  question,  how  far  it  is  practi- 
cable or  desirable  to  substitute  a  metallic  currency  for  bank  paper 
or  even  very  materially  to  widen  the  metallic  basis  of  our  present 
circulation. 

I  presume  it  will  hardly  be  disputed  that,  by  a  general  return 
to  the  precious  metals  as  the  only  medium  of  exchange  for  the 
whole  commercial  world,  the  operations  of  trade  would  be  every 
where  embarrassed  and  impeded,  and  the  vajue  of  money  en- 
hanced, or,  which  is  the  same  thing,  the  prices  of  commodities 
reduced  in  an  incalculable  degree.  How  far  a  similar  effect  has 
already  been  produced  by  the  diminution  of  the  supply  from 
the  Mexican  and  South  American  mines,  within  the  last  twenty 
years,  is  one  of  the  most  difficult  and  controverted  questions  of 
the  day.  This  is  not  a  fit  occasion  for  stating  the  arguments 
advanced  by  the  advocates  of  different  views  on  that  subject,  but 
I  will  mention  to  the  committee  that,  in  a  very  able  work  to 
which  I  have  already  referred  as  having  been  recently  sent  to 
me,  the  author,  who  examines  this  point  with  perfect  candor,  ad- 
vances the  opinion  that  thousands  have,  within  the  period  alluded 
to,  been  precipitated  into  embarrassments  from  that  cause  alone.* 
If  it  be  true,  as  is  alleged  by  Jacobs,  that  the  whole  stock  of  coin 
in  circulation,  in  1S29,  was  less  by  upwards  of  £60,000,000  than 
that  which  circulated  in  1809 — and,  if  any  thing  like  the  sup- 
posed diminution  of  the  actual  quantity  by  abrasion,  by  loss,  by 
consumption  in  manufactures  takes  place,  (1  per  cent.t  a  year,) 
it  becomes  matter  of  serious  speculation,  what  means  shall  be 
adopted  to  obviate  so  great  an  inconvenience  as  a  continually 
decreasing  metallic  basis,  at  a  period  when  commerce  and  its 
productive  powers  are  so  immensely  on  the  increase.  Sir,  that 
question  is  infinitely  more  interesting  in  a  highly  progressive 
country  than  in  any  other.  In  such  a  country,  the  currency 
must  be  regularly  enlarged  with  the  growth  of  its  population  and 
of  its  productive  power,  or  it  is  subjected  to  the  most  terrible  of 
all  evils,  falling  prices.  Every  body  that  has  ever  treated  of 
such  subjects  has  dwelt  upon  the  effects  of  an  increasing  cur- 
rency, as  wonderfully  favorable  to  industry.  No  more  striking 
example  of  this  truth  can  be  desired  than  what  was  witnessed 
in  the  sixteenth  century,  after  the  importation  of  gold  and  silver 
from  America  began  to  produce  a  decided  effect  upon  the  distribu- 
tion of  wealth.  It  is  admitted  on  all  hands  to  have  been  the  period 
of  the  greatest  improvement  in  society  that  has  occurred  in  its 
*  Money  and  its  Vicissitudes  in  Value.  t  Ibid. 


SPIRIT  OF  THE  SUB-TREASURY.  313 

history  ;  and  of  all  countries,  bo  it  remembered,  England  bene- 
fitted most  by  the  general  rise  of  prices,  because  so  large  a  por- 
tion of  her  farmers  held  leases  for  long  terms  of  years,  and  paid 
money  rents :  the  increase  of  the  circulation  operating  to  re- 
duce the  real  value  of  the  returns,  made  to  the  landlord,  in  favor 
of  his  tenant.  The  great  benefit  of  a  full  and  especially  an  in- 
creasing circulation  thus  consists  not  only  in  quickening  and 
facilitating  exchanges,  (itself  an  immense  stimulus  to  industry,) 
but  in  securing  to  the  industrious  classes  rather  a  larger  propor- 
tion of  the  income  of  society  than  they  would  otherwise  enjoy. 
Every  thing  which  they  buy  to  sell  again  advances  in  price 
while  it  is  in  their  hands,  and  this  unquestionable  truth  is  of  it- 
self a  total  refutation  of  all  that  is  said  concerning  the  oppressive 
operation  of  bank  paper  upon  the  productive  classes,  by  the  very 
persons  who,  in  the  same  breath,  speak  of  its  excess  and  depre- 
ciation. 

With  a  population  then,  increasing  at  the  rate  of  4  to  5  per 
cent,  a  year,  and  with  an  accumulation  of  capital  and  productive 
power  proportionally  greater,  I  hold  it  to  be  utterly  absurd  to 
talk  of  any  thing  like  a  metallic  currency  in  the  United  States. 
There  is  no  possible  means  of  procuring,  and  if  by  any  means 
it  could  be  procured,  I  venture  to  affirm  that  our  people  would 
get  rid  of  it  in  the  course  of  a  few  years,  though  all  the  penal 
laws  of  Spain  against  the  exportation  of  gold  and  silver  should 
be  re-enacted  here — laws  which  were  passed  with  no  other  effect, 
even  in  that  country,  but  to  show  the  utter  futility  of  such  legis- 
lation. I  say,  sir,  that  with  their  present  habits  of  active  enter- 
prise and  strict  economy,  the  American  people  would  export  the 
precious  metals  as  fast  as  they  were  imported,  beyond  any  amount 
of  them  which  might  be  absolutely  necessary  for  the  domestic 
exchanges  of  the  country,  and  they  would  do  so  because  gold 
and  silver  would  be  of  use  abroad  in  purchasing  commodities, 
and  would  be  wholly  superfluous  at  home,  where  paper  would 
do  as  well.  If  you  put  down  "the  banks,"  it  would  have  no  ef- 
fect but  to  set  up  something  worse  in  their  place,  in  the  shape  of 
private  paper.  There  are  some  things  over  which  the  most  des- 
potic lawgivers  are  unable  to  exercise  any  control,  and  one  of 
them,  as  all  experience  shows,  is  this  commerce  in  bullion. 

Sir,  it  has  been  said  that  the  only  advantage  of  a  paper  cur- 
rency over  the  precious  metals  consists  in  its  cheapness.  I  am, 
by  no  means,  as  you  may  gather  from  what  I  have  said,  ready 
to  admit  this,  but  supposing  it  to  be  true,  is  that  saving  really  an 
unimportant  matter  ?  Mr.  Gallatin,  in  a  pamphlet  of  signal  abil- 
ity,* has,  as  I  conceive,  fallen  into  a  grave  error  on  this  subject, 
which  it  is  so  much  the  more  important  to  rectify,  as  I  perceive, 

*  Considerations  on  the  Currency  and  Banking  of  the  United  States.  Philadel- 
phia, 1831. 

vol.  i. — 40 


314  SPIRIT  OP  THE  SUB-TREASURY. 

that  ho  has  misled  others  more  disposed  than  himself  to  turn  a 
speculative  error  into  a  practical  mischief.  He  states  the  whole 
benefit  derived  from  the  use  of  paper  instead  of  the  precious 
metals  in  the  United  States  in  1830,  including,  under  the  name 
of  circulation,  private  deposites  in  the  banks,  as  they  ought  un- 
doubtedly to  be,  at  about  five  millions  of  dollars  a  year.  It  is 
true  that,  according  to  principles  admitted  by  Mr.  Gallatin,  the 
progress  of  the  country,  both  in  wealth  and  population,  in  the 
last  seven  years,  would  require  a  very  considerable  addition  to 
be  made  to  this  estimate  in  order  to  a  correct  application  of  it  to 
our  actual  condition.  But,  sir,  it  appears  to  me  that  the  estimate 
was  made  on  data  altogether  erroneous.  In  the  first  place,  the 
quantity  of  currency,  if  it  were  metallic,  necessary  to  the  circu- 
lation of  this  country,  was  prodigiously  underrated.  For  rea- 
sons that  need  not  be*  stated  here,  it  is  found  that  a  given  amount 
of  metallic  currency  does  not  circulate  as  rapidly  as  an  equal 
amount  of  paper,  and  therefore,  that  more  of  it  is,  ceteris  pari- 
bus, required  to  do  the  same  business.  But,  without  going  into 
such  minute  inquiry  here,  why  should  the  United  States,  with 
sixteen  millions  of  inhabitants,  and  relatively  the  most  active 
trade  both  foreign  and  domestic  in  the  world,  and  with  extraor- 
dinary productive  power  of  all  sorts,  not  need,  at  the  very  least, 
half  the  circulation  necessary  in  France,  with  only  double  their 
population,  and  not  half  their  industry  ?  The  stress  that  ought 
to  be  laid  on  this  latter  circumstance  may  be  illustrated  by  com- 
paring Asia  with  Europe  in  this  particular ;  double  the  popula- 
tion in  the  former,  possessing,  according  to  the  most  accurate  re- 
searches, only  one-fifth  the  quantity  of  gold  and  silver,  which, 
in  addition  to  paper  of  all  sorts,  is  required  in  the  latter.  Now, 
the  circulation  of  France  was,  before  the  first  revolution,  set 
down  by  Neckar  at  £88,000,000*— and  Thiers,  in  his  history  of 
that  event,  makes  a  similar  estimate.!  Its  present  amount  ought 
in  reference  to  the  increase  of  her  capital  and  population,  to  be, 
at  least,  600,000,000  of  dollars,  and  accordingly,  as  was  observed 
by  one  of  my  colleagues,  (Mr.  Thompson)  it  is  stated  at  that,  on 
good  authority}.  Mr.  Rothschild,  in  his  examination  before  the 
Committee  of  the  House  of  Commons  in  1832,  mentions  the 
paper  circulation  of  the  Bank  of  France  as  amounting  to  750,- 
000,000  of  francs.  According  to  this,  then,  we  should  require,  on 
the  footing  of  population  alone,  at  least  300,000,000  of  dollars. 
So  much  for  the  amount ;  now  for  the  loss  upon  it. 

Mr.  Gallatin  considers  it  only  as  so  much  interest  on  dead  cap- 
ital, and  even  the  interest  he  puts  at  an  exceedingly  low  rate. 
But  I  apprehend  the  difference  to  the  country  between  having  a 

*  See  an  article  in  Blackwood's  Magazine,  for  last  February. 

t  Burke's  Letter  on  the  French  Revolution. 

:  Thiers'  Hist.de  la  Revolution  Francaise,  v.  5,  p.  24. 


SPIRIT  OP  THE  SUB-TREASURY.  315 

vast  inert  mass  of  gold  and  silver  as  currency,  and  turning  it 
into  productive  capital,  must  be  determined,  not  in  reference  to 
interest  merely,  but  the  profit  of  stock  laid  out  in  active  industry, 
which  is  no  where  in  this  country  less  than  10  per  cent.,  and,  in 
the  great  majority  of  cases,  the  new  states  and  all  included,  near 
double  that  amount  on  an  average.  You  see  then,  sir,  what  an 
enormous  loss  a  metallic  currency  would  be  to  the  nation,  with- 
out taking  into  the  account,  its  wear  and  tear.  Look  back  at  the 
half  century  that  has  passed  away,  and  say  what  that  loss  would 
have  been,  on  principles  of  compound  interest,  from  the  begin- 
ning up  to  the  present  day.  Why,  sir,  it  exceeds  all  powers  of 
calculation,  nay  of  imagination.  Do  not  suppose  for  a  moment 
that  so  important,  so  palpable  a  truth,  although  never  stated  in 
abstract  terms  or  as  a  general  proposition,  has  not  occurred  to  the 
people  of  the  United  States.  They  have/e/£  it  without  perceiv- 
ing it,  they  have  acted  on  it  without  reasoning  about  it,  they 
have  perfectly  well  comprehended  the  real  uses  of  money,  without 
studying  the  principles  of  currency,  and  they  have  preferred  pa- 
per as  a  circulating  medium  to  gold  and  silver,  because  it  was 
better  for  their  purposes  than  gold  and  silver,  on  the  simplest 
maxims  of  prudence  and  economy.  You  may  depend  upon  it, 
this  conclusion  is  as  deeply  rooted  as  it  is  just.  You  will  never 
be  able  to  shake  it.  All  your  policy  will  be  of  no  avail,  as  all 
legislation  is  forever  vain  which  comes  in  conflict  with  the  genius 
of  a  people,  especially  in  matters  so  deeply  and  visibly  affecting 
their  private  interest.  The  Barbarian  who,  in  his  impotent  rage, 
threw  fetters  into  the  Hellespont  and  scourged  its  foaming  bil- 
lows, did  not  wage  a  more  insane  war  against  the  nature  of 
things. 

But  we  are  told  that,  if  it  is  an  experiment  that  has  been  propos- 
ed to  us,  we  need  not  be  alarmed  at  it,  because  we  are  accustom- 
ed to  experiments,  and  successful  ones;  that  our  Constitution  it- 
self is  a  mere  experiment.  Sir,  1  deny  it  utterly,  and  he  that 
says  so  shows  me  that  he  has  either  not  studied  at  all,  or 
studied  to  very  little  purpose,  the  history  and  genius  of  our  in- 
stitutions. The  great  cause  of  their  prosperous  results — a  cause 
which  every  one  of  the  many  attempts,  since  vainly  made  to 
imitate  them,  on  this  continent  or  in  Europe,  only  demonstrates 
the  more  clearly— is  precisely  the  contrary.  It  is  because  our 
fathers  made  no  experiments,  and  had  no  experiment  to  make, 
that  their  work  had  stood.  They  were  forced,  by  a  violation  of 
their  historical,  hereditary  rights  under  the  old  common  law  of 
their  race,  to  dissolve  their  connection  with  the  mother  country. 
Their  external,  their  federal  relations  were  of  course  changed,  and 
in  that  respect,  and,  in  that  respect  only,  they  were  compelled  to 
do  their  best  in  the  novel  situation  in  which  they  stood.  What 
relates,  therefore,  merely  to  the  union  of  the  States  is  all  that 


316  SPIRIT  OP  THE  SUB-TREASURV. 

gives  the  least  countenance  to  this  superficial  idea  of  an  "experi- 
ment", which  has  done  so  much  to  misguide  the  speculations  of 
some  visionary  minds  upon  these  important  matters.  Even  in 
this  respect,  however,  an  attentive  study  of  our  history  will 
show  that  strong  federal  tendencies  existed  and  had,  frequently, 
on  former  occasions  manifested  themselves.*  But  the  whole 
constitution  of  society  in  the  States,  the  great  body  and  bulk  of 
their  public  law,  with  all  its  maxims  and  principles — in  short, 
all  that  is  republican  in  our  institutions — remained  after  the  revo- 
lution, and  remains  now,  with  some  very  subordinate  modifica- 
tions, what  it  was  from  the  beginning.  Our  written  constitutions 
do  nothing  but  consecrate  and  fortify  the  "plain  rules  of  ancient 
liberty,"  handed  down  with  Magna  Charta,  from  the  earliest  his- 
tory of  our  race.  It  is  not  a  piece  of  paper,  sir,  it  is  not  a  few 
abstractions  engrossed  on  parchment,  that  make  free  govern- 
ments. No,  sir,  the  law  of  liberty  must  be  inscribed  on  the 
heart  of  the  citizen  :  the  word,  if  I  may  use  the  expression  with- 
out irreverence,  must  become  flesh  ;  you  must  have  a  whole  peo- 
ple trained,  disciplined,  bred,  yea,  and  born,  as  our  fathers  were, 
to  institutions  like  ours.  Before  the  colonies  existed,  the  Petition 
of  Right,  that  Magna  Charta  of  a  more  enlightened  age,  had  been 
presented  in  1628  by  Lord  Coke  and  his  immortal  compeers. — 
Our  founders  brought  it  with  them,  and  we  have  not  gone  one 
step  beyond  them.  They  brought  these  maxims  of  civil  liberty, 
not  in  their  libraries  but  in  their  souls ;  not  as  philosophical 
prattle — not  as  barren  generalities,  but  as  rules  of  conduct ;  as  a 
symbol  of  public  duty  and  private  right,  to  be  adhered  to  with 
religious  fidelity  ;  and  the  very  first  pilgrim  that  set  his  foot  upon 
the  rock  of  Plymouth  stepped  forth  a  living  constitution  ! 
armed  at  all  points  to  defend  and  to  perpetuate  the  liberty  to 
which  he  had  devoted  his  whole  being. 

ft  only  remains  for  me  to  advert  briefly  to  one  or  two  ad- 
ditional topics,  and  I  have  done.  It  has  been  argued  as  if  the 
currency  given  to  bank  paper  in  this  country  were  due  almost 
exclusively  to  the  countenance  which  government  affords  it,  by 
receiving  it  in  payment  of  public  dues.  Certainly  sir,  the  patron- 
age of  government  is  an  important  concurring  cause  of  this 
credit ;  but  it  is  not  true  that  it  is  essential  to  it.  What  docs  the 
house  of  Rothschild  owe  to  the  government  of  Europe — that 
house  to  which  all  the  governments  on  the  continent  are  obliged 
to  have  recourse  in  their  financial  exigencies?  And  here  let  me 
call  the  attention  of  those,  who  declaim  so  vehemently  against 
the  agency  of  banking  corporations,  to  the  fact,  that  this  mighty 
house,  with  its  scarcely  less  than  royal  influence  and  splendor, 
like  most  of  the  other  establishments  of  the  same  kind  in  Europe, 
is  no  corporation  at  all,  but  a  mere  private  partnership,  and  to 

*  Convention  at  Albany,  &c. 


SPIRIT  OF  THE  SUB-TREASURY.  317 

the  additional  fact,  that  its  colossal  fortune  has  been  amassed 
in  little  more  than  a  single  generation,  by  an  obscure  person, 
born  in  a  corner  of  the  Juden-Strasse  of  Frankfort  on  the  Maine, 
and  his  four  sons.  Do  you  not  see  then,  sir,  that  the  odious 
common  places  about  Hhe  money  power,"  and  "the  political 
powers,"  either  have  no  meaning,  or  apply  with  all  their  force  to 
every  accumulation  of  capital,  and  all  the  great  results  of  mod- 
ern commerce?  The  "money  power,"  I  presume  signifies  "the 
power  of  money,"  which  is  widely  diffused  in  this  country, 
thanks  to  the  protection  of  equal  laws,  and  which  will  exist  and 
continue  to  have  its  influence,  so  long  as  those  laws  shall  protect 
it  from  confiscation,  whether  it  shall  borrow  the  credit  of  the 
government,  or  the  government  shall  borrow  its  credit.  It  is 
scarcely  necessary  to  notice  an  idea,  analogous  to  the  last,  which 
has  been  very  much  insisted  on,  and  that  is,  that  the  commerce 
of  New- York  has  been  built  up  by  government  credits.  Why, 
sir,  this  does  appear  to  me  too  extravagant  to  need  exposure. 
New- York  has  been  built  up  by  her  unquestionable  natural  ad- 
vantages, and  there  is  no  measure  of  this  government — there  is 
only  one  event,  that  can  possibly  deprive  her  of  her  immense 
commercial  ascendancy, — the  dissolution  of  the  Union — that, 
and  nothing  but  that,  can  do  it.  Commerce,  as  I  have  already 
remarked,  tends  every  where  to  centralization  :  look  at  Liverpool, 
look  at  Havre,  the  last,  in  a  hard  money  country.  But  on  this 
head  there  is  a  very  important  consideration,  which  has  been 
urged  with  all  his  admirable  eloquence,  by  one  of  my  colleagues 
in  the  Senate  (Mr.  Preston).  If  this  concentration  of  commercial 
business  at  that  city  be  injurious  to  the  others  now,  what  will  it 
become,  if,  by  collecting  the  revenue  in  gold  and  silver,  and  thus 
making  gold  and  silver  mere  merchandize,  you  add  to  the  dis- 
advantages of  centralization  all  the  difficulties  of  procuring 
coin — make  New- York  the  great  specie  market — and  render  the 
whole  country  tributary  to  the  money  changers  of  Wall-street? 
Sir,  a  word  more  to  the  South  and  for  the  South.  When 
your  system  of  protection  was  still  in  all  its  vigor,  we,  (I  mean 
the  people  of  South-Carolina,)  sent  you  a  protest  against  its  prin- 
ciples and  tendency,  which  contained,  among  other  objections  to 
it,  one  that  deserves  to  be  repeated  here.  We  told  you  that  we 
depended  absolutely  upon  commerce  —commerce  on  the  largest 
scale — commerce  carried  on  as  it  has  been  for  the  last  half  cen- 
tury, with  an  ever  increasing  production,  provoking  and  creating 
an  ever  increasing  consumption,  and  permitting  us  to  send  a  mil- 
lion (now  a  million  and  a  half)  of  bales  of  cotton  into  the  market, 
without  any  danger  of  a  glut.  We  told  you  the  staple  commo- 
dities, especially'the  principal  one  which  we  produced,  were 
among  the  very  few  in  the  production  of  which  slave  labor  can 
enter  into  competetion  with  free.     We  reminded  you  that,  great 


318  SPIRIT  OP  THE  SUB-TREASURY. 

revolutions  in  trade,  sometimes  arose  from  apparently  slight 
causes,  and  that,  however  far  it  might  be  from  your  purpose,  or 
even  your  apprehensions,  it  was  possible  that  your  legislation 
might  occasion  us  the  loss  of  our  foreign  market,  our  only  re- 
source— that  the  result  of  that  loss  to  us  would  be  poverty  and 
utter  desolation,  that  our  people  in  despair,  would  emigrate  to 
more  fortunate  regions,  and  the  whole  frame  and  constitution  of 
our  society  would  be  seriously  impaired  and  endangered,  if  not 
dissolved  entirely.  And  we  adjured  you  not  to  persist  in  a  course 
of  legislation  of  which  the  benefit  to  yourselves,  even  were  they 
unquestionable,  were  nothing  in  comparison  of  the  danger  to 
which  they  exposed  us — a  danger  which,  however  contingent  or 
remote,  involved  our  whole  existence,  and  could  not  be  contem- 
plated without  well-founded  alarm. — Sir,  I  repeat  to  you  now — 
I  repeat  to  the  representatives  of  the  whole  South  on  this  floor — 
the  words  then  addressed  to  the  house  on  a  different  subject. 
Let  well  alone.  Resist  this  uncalled  for  innovation,  of  which  no 
one  can  foresee  the  whole  extent  nor  the  ultimate  results.  Mark 
what  your  Secretary  of  the  Treasury  has  told  you,  in  the  very 
paper  in  which  he  reveals  the  project  on  the  table — you  pro- 
duce too  much  cotton.  Go  home,  gentlemen  of  the  South, 
and  tell  your  people  that  their  successful  industry  is  a  vice — that 
the  fertility  of  their  soil  is  a  curse — that  their  excessive  produc- 
tion occasions  disorders  in  the  state — and  that  the  remedy  for 
our  troubles  is  that  they  should  live  on  short  commons. 

Let  them  co-operate  with  our  political  economy,  by  depriving 
themselves  of  the  little  mercantile  capital  they  have — let  them 
abolish  those  corporations  to  which  people,  who  cannot  them- 
selves do  business — the  widow  and  the  orphan — have  contri- 
buted their  means  for  the  accommodation  of  commerce — let  them 
but  do  this,  and  their  docility  will  be  admirable,  and  shall  have 
our  approbation. 

Sir,  before  1  take  my  seat  there  is  one  other  topic  that  I  feel  it 
my  duty  to  advert  to — I  mean  to  the  supposed  injurious  effects 
of  banking  institutions  upon  the  laboring  classes  of  society.  Al- 
though I  have  no  doubt  but  that  there  are  many  defects  in  the 
constitution,  as  well  as  the  management  of  those  institutions  in 
this  country,  and  should  be  most  willing  to  co-operate,  if  oc- 
casion served,  in  reforming  them,  I  have  no  hesitation  in  acquit- 
ting them  at  least  of  this  charge.  Who  that  has  ever  heard  of 
the  relation  between  capital  and  labor,  between  wages  and  profits, 
but  must  see  at  once,  that  it  is  unfounded ;  and  accordingly  Hume 
objects  to  banks  that  by  their  issues  they  raise  wages,  and  so 
hurt  the  manufacturing  interests  of  a  nation.  I  have  already 
remarked  that  one  of  the  effects  of  an  increasing  currency  is  to 
a  distribution  of  the  wealth  of  society  more  favourable  to  the 
industrious  classes  of  it — to  confiscate,  in  a  manner,  the  property 


SPIRIT  OF  THE  SUB-TREASURY.  319 

of  those  who  lived  on  fixed  incomes,  for  the  benefit  of  those 
who  produce  the  commodities  on  which  those  incomes  are  laid 
out.  It  is  for  this  reason  that  the  radicals  of  England— Mr.  At- 
wood,  for  example — are  all  strenuous  advocates  of  paper  money, 
and  even  of  inconvertible  paper.  The  idea  that  the  poor  are  to 
gain  by  a  return  to  metallic  currency  is,  so  far  as  I  know,  con- 
fined to  their  friends  in  this  country,  whose  zeal  is  certainly 
greater  than  their  knowledge.  It  is  true,  sir,  that,  among  other 
disadvantages  attending  frequent  fluctuations  in  the  currency,  it 
is  said  that  wages  are  the  last  thing  that  rises  in  a  case  of  expan- 
sion. And  that  may  be  so  in  countries  where  the  supply  of  labor 
is  greater  than  the  demand,  but  the  very  reverse  is  most  certainly 
the  fact  here  where  the  demand — especially,  when  stimulated  by 
any  extraordinary  increase,  real  or  fictitious,  of  capital — is  always 
greater  than  the  supply.  All  price  is  a  question  of  power,  or 
relative  necessity  between  two  parties,  and  every  body  knows 
that  in  a  period  of  excitement  here  wages  rise  immediately,  and 
out  of  all  proportion  more  than  anything  else,  because  the  popu- 
lation of  the  country  is  entirely  inadequate  to  its  wants.  During 
the  last  year,  for  instance,  the  price  of  labor  became  so  exorbitant, 
that  some  of  the  most  fertile  land  in  South-Carolina,  rice  fields 
which  have  been  cultivated  a  hundred  years,  were  in  danger  of 
being  abandoned  from  the  impossibility  of  paying  for  it.  Sir, 
as  a  southern  man,  I  represent  equally  rent,  capital  and  wages, 
which  are  all  confounded  in  our  estates — and  I  protest  against 
attempts  to  array,  without  cause,  without  a  color  of  pretext  or 
plausibility,  the  different  classes  of  society  against  one  another, 
as  if,  in  such  a  country  as  this,  there  could  be  any  natural  hostil- 
ity, or  any  real  distinction  between  them — a  country  in  which 
all  the  rich,  with  hardly  an  exception,  have  been  poor,  and  all 
the  poor  may  be  rich — a  country  in  which  banking  institutions 
have  been  of  immense  service,  precisely  because  they  have  been 
most  needed  by  a  people  who  all  had  their  fortunes  to  make  by 
good  character  and  industrious  habits.  Look  at  that  remarkable 
picture — remarkable  not  as  a  work  of  art,  but  as  a  monument  of 
history — which  you  see  in  passing  through  the  Rotunda.  Two 
out  of  five  of  that  immortal  committee  were  mechanics,  and 
such  men  !*  In  the  name  of  God,  sir,  why  should  any  one  study 
to  pervert  the  natural  good  sense,  and  kindly  feelings  of  this 
moral  and  noble  people,  to  infuse  into  their  minds  a  sullen  envy 
towards  one  another,  instead  of  that  generous  emulation  which 
every  thing  in  their  situation  is  fitted  to  inspire,  to  breathe  into 
them  the  spirit  of  Cain,  muttering  deep  curses  and  meditating 
desperate  revenge  against  his  brother,  because  the  smoke  of  his 
sacrifice  has  ascended  to  heaven  before  his  own  !  And  do  not 
they  who  treat  our  industrious  classes  as  if  they  were  in  the 
*  Franklin  and  Sherman,  signers  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence. 


320  SPIRIT  OF  THE  SUB-TREASUU V. 

same  debased  wretched  condition  as  the  poor  of  Europe,  insult 
them  by  such  an  odious  comparison  ? — Why,  sir,  you  do  not 
know  what  poverty  is — we  have  no  poor  in  this  country,  in  the 
sense  in  which  that  word  is  used  abroad.  Every  laborer,  even 
the  most  humble,  in  the  United  States,  soon  becomes  a  capitalist; 
and  even,  if  he  choose,  a  proprietor  of  land,  for  the  West  witli 
all  its  boundless  fertility  is  open  to  him.  How  can  anyone  dare 
to  compare  the  mechanics  of  this  land,  (whose  inferiority  in  any 
substantial  particular — in  intelligence,  in  virtue,  in  wealth — to 
the  other  classes  of  our  society,  1  have  yet  to  learn,)  with  that 
race  of  outcasts,  of  which  so  terrific  a  picture  is  presented  by 
recent  writers — the  poor  of  Europe?  A  race,  among  no  incon- 
siderable portion  of  whom  famine  and  pestilence  may  be  said  to 
dwell  continually — many  of  whom  are  without  morals,  without 
education,  without  a  country,  without  a  God  !  and  may  be  said 
to  know  society  only  by  the  terrors  of  its  penal  code,  and  to  live 
in  perpetual  war  with  it.  Poor  bondmen !  mocked  with  the 
name  o,  liberty,  that  they  may  be  sometimes  tempted  to  break 
their  chains,  in  order  that,  after  a  lew  days  of  starvation  in  idle- 
ness or  dissipation,  they  may  be  driven  back  to  their  prison-house, 
to  take  them  up  again,  heavier  and  more  galling  than  before: — 
severed,  as  it  has  been  touchingly  expressed,  from  nature,  from 
the  common  air  and  the  light  of  the  sun ;  knowing  only  by 
hearsay  that  the  fields  are  green,  that  the  birds  sing,  and  that 
there  is  a  perfume  in  flowers.*  And  it  is  with  a  race,  whom 
the  perverse  institutions  of  Europe  have  thus  degraded  beneath 
the  condition  of  humanity,  that  the  advocates,  the  patrons,  the 
protectors  of  our  working  men,  presume  to  compare  them?  Sir, 
it  is  to  treat  them  with  a  scorn,  at  which  their  spirit  should 
revolt,  and  does  revolt !  Just  before  I  left  Charleston,  there  was 
a  meeting  called  for  some  purpose,  which  was  regarded  by  the 
people  of  that  city  as  unfavorable  to  public  order.  There  was 
something,  I  suppose,  in  the  proceedings,  which  looked  to  the 
invidious  distinction  of  which  I  have  been  speaking  ;  for  it  led, 
as  I  have  heard,  to  an  expression  of  sentiment  from  one  of  our 
mechanics,!  which  struck  me  as  noble  beyond  all  praise.  He 
said,  he  wondered  what  could  be  meant  by  addressing,  to  the 
industrious  classes  particularly,  all  inflammatory  appeals  against 
the  institutions  of  the  country — as  if  they  were  not  a  part  of 
the  community,  as  much  interested  in  its  order  and  peace,  as  any 
other — as  if  they  had  no  ties  of  sympathy  or  connection  with 
their  fellow-citizens — above  all,  as  if  they  had  not  intelligence  and 
knowledge  enough  to  take  care  of  their  own  interests,  but  were 
reduced  to  a  state  of  perpetual  pupilage  and  infancy,  and  needed 
the  officious  protection  of  self-constituted  guardians  !     Sir,  that 

*  Michelet.  t  Mr.  Henry  J.  Harby. 


SPIRIT  OF  THE  SUB-TREASURY.  321 

was  a  sentiment  worthy  of  a  freeman, and  which  may  be  record- 
ed, with  honor,  among  the  sayings  of  heroes. 

Mr.  Chairman,  I  thank  the  committee  for  the  attention  with 
which  it  has  honored  me.  I  have  detained  it  long :  but  1  was 
full  of  the  subject  which  appears  to  me  to  be  one  of  vast  impor- 
tance, in  all  its  bearings.  I  have  spoken  what  I  felt  and  thought, 
without  reference  to  party.  But  I  will  say  one  word  to  those 
with  whom  I  have  generally  acted  on  this  floor.  I  have  heard 
that  some  of  them  disapprove  this  measure,  but  are  disposed  to 
vote  for  it  to  oblige  their  friends.  Sir,  this  is  a  strange  and  great 
mistake.  A  true  friend  ought  to  be  a  faithful  counsellor.*  Let 
them  remember  the  deep  reproach  which  the  great  poet  puts  in 
the  mouth  of  one  of  his  heroes : 

Hadst  thou  but  shook  thy  head,  or  made  a  pause, 

When  I  spoke  daikly  what  I  purposed; 

Or  turned  an  eye  of  doubt  upon  my  lace ! 

[*  Phocion  to  Antipater.  Plutarch  de  Adulatore  et  Amico.  ou  duvaffai  (/.<>< 
Kjy  <p»X6J  xprjtfSrai  x,'  xoXaxj  tout'  ££»>,*/  <p»Xw  x^  jxtj  cpjXw.] 


vol.  i. — 41 


RECOGNITION  OF  IIAYT1. 


Speech,  delivered  in  the  House  of  Representatives  of  the  United  Slates, 
December  18, 1838. 

Mr.  Saltonstall,  of  Massachusetts,  having  presented  a  me- 
morial praying  for  the  recognition  of  the  Republic  of  Hayti,  and 
the  establishment  of  international  relations  with  her,  and  hav- 
ing moved  its  reference  to  the  committee  on  Foreign  Affairs — 

Mr.  Legare  desired  further  information  as  to  the  nature  of 
the  memorial,  and  the  grounds  on  which  it  asked  for  its  object. 

The  Chair  said  there  was  no  question  before  the  House  but 
the  question  of  reference. 

Mr.  Legare  raised  the  question  of  reception.  He  objected  to 
the  memorial  being  received.  There  was  a  wide  difference 
between  petitions  which  were  presented  bona  fide  by  our  mer- 
chants with  a  view  to  relieve  themselves  from  a  difficulty  or 
embarrassment  under  which  they  labored  in  their  business,  and 
petitions  of  similar  form  got  up  by  abolitionists  for  purposes  of 
political  effect,  and  to  promote  the  ends  of  abolition.  If  this 
were  a  petition  of  the  former  character,  he  saw  no  difficulty  in 
receiving  it.  He  was  aware  how  difficult  it  was  to  distinguish 
practically  between  them.  Still,  if  it  were  a  memorial  of  the 
latter  kind,  it  was  virtually  an  act  of  war  against  one  portion  of 
the  Union,  and  the  House  had  not  only  a  clear  constitutional 
right  to  reject  it,  but  was  under  the  most  solemn  and  imperative 
duty  to  do  so.  He  had  been  desirous  of  an  opportunity  of  ex- 
pressing his  views  in  relation  to  this  subject ;  and  it  was  certain- 
ly much  to  be  regretted  that  a  question  of  such  vital  importance 
to  a  great  and  growing  confederacy,  whose  members  were  con- 
tinually multiplying,  and  with  them  the  diversities  in  condition, 
character,  pursuits,  and  interests,  that  made  the  administration 
of  a  Federal  government  so  very  delicate  a  matter — a  question, 
too,  which  mustj  in  the  nature  of  things,  be  perpetually  recur- 
ring— should  be  smothered  in  this  manner.  But  he  was  out  of 
order,  he  knew,  and  he  would  not  press  his  remark  further. 
[Cries  of  "Go  on!  go  on!"]  If  not  out  of  order,  I  should  really 
like  to  address  a  few  words  to  this  question.  The  gentleman 
from  Massachusetts,  (Mr.  Adams),  in  a  spirit,  1  must  be  per- 
mitted to  say,  less  offensive  than  he  usually  displays  on  this 
subject,  has  contended  that  the  amendment  of  the  constitution 


RECOGNITION  OF  HAYTI.  323 

touching  the  right  of  petition  has  set  at  nought  all  the  prece- 
dents of  the  British  House  of  Commons.  But  look  at  the 
amendment ;  what  does  it  say  ? 

"Congress  shall  make  no  law  respecting  an  establishment  of  religion, 
or  prohibiting  the  free  exercise  thereof;  or  abridging  the  freedom  of 
speech  or  of  the  press  ;  or  the  right  of  the  people  peaceably  to  assemble, 
and  to  petition  the  government  for  a  redress  of  grievances." 

The  question  is  whether  there  is  any  thing  in  this  language 
to  render  inapplicable  here  the  parliamentary  law  touching  the 
subject  of  petitions.  And  is  it  not  as  clear  as  day  that  there  is 
not  ?  The  thing  prohibited  in  this  amendment  is  a  new  law  ; 
an  act  of  both  Houses,  approved  by  the  Executive ;  a  statute, 
declaring  that  the  right  of  assembling  to  petition  their  rulers  does 
not  belong  to  American  citizens,  or  which  shall  in  any  wise 
weaken  or  impair  that  right.  The  words  are,  "Congress  shall 
pass  no  law?  What  is  "CongressV  The  Senate  and  House 
of  Representatives  together.  The  object  was,  as  in  the  analo- 
gous case  of  trial  by  jury,  to  preserve  freedom  of  debate  and  the 
right  of  petition  forever  as  they  stood  at  common  law.  But 
here  we  are  not  called  to  pass  a  statute,  but  simply  to  declare 
what  is  the  meaning  of  the  common  law  itself. 

It  is  not  a  legislative  but  a  judical  function  we  are  exercising 
in  relation  to  the  reception  of  petitions,  under  our  undoubted  con- 
stitutional right  of  regulating  our  own  procedure.  The  right  of 
petition  is  as  much  protected  by  this  amendment  of  the  constitu- 
tion as  the  freedom  of  speech  is,  and  no  more.  And  will  any 
man  tell  me  that  the  freedom  of  speech  is  absolute  and  inherent, 
and  cannot  be  restrained  by  this  House?  Is  a  member  of  this 
House,  under  this  provision  of  the  constitution,  entitled  to  say 
just  what  he  pleases  in  this  hall  ?  May  he  vomit  forth  blasphe- 
mies ?  May  he  shock  your  ears  with  foul  obscenity  ?  May  he 
attack  the  fundamental  principles  of  republican  government — for 
that  I  pronounce  to  be  clearly  out  of  order?  I  think  no  man 
will  maintain  this,  or  any  thing  like  this.*  The  meaning  of  the 
amendment  is  clear.  It  means  that  what  is  liberty  of  speech  in 
this  House  shall  be  judged  by  the  House,  and  by  the  House 
alone.  Not  by  the  Senate ;  not  by  the  President ;  not  by  any 
power  other  than  the  House  itself.  It  is  not  to  make  the  right 
absolute,  but  to  render  the  jurisdiction  exclusive.  And  I  say 
that  the  judicial  right  of  this  House  to  decide  on  all  such 
questions  is  not  in  the  least  impaired,  but,  on  the  contrary, 
secured  and  guarded  by  this  amendment  to  the  constitution. 
The  right  is  preserved  as  a  sacred  prerogative  of  the  American 
people,  but  to  be  exercised,  with  reference  to  the  ends  of  the  con- 

*  So  the  previous  question,  a  motion  to  lay  on  the  table,  &c,  are  familiar  in- 
stances of  the  control  of  the  House  over  liberty  of  speech  in  its  own  members. 


324  RECOGNITION  OF  HAYTI. 

stitution  under  the  control  of  this  House,  and  in  conformity  to 
the  established  practice  of  the  country. 

The  same  doctrine  precisely  applies  to  the  right  of  petition; 
and  in  relation  to  that  right  there  are  precedents  innumerable  in 
the  British  books.     If  you  go  as  far  back  as  the  times  of  the 
Long  Parliament,  you  will  find  a  case  in  which  a  petition  was 
ordered   to   be  burnt  by  the   hand  of  the   common  hangman. 
And  let  no  man  object  that  the  influences  of  royalty  operated 
there.     This  was  done  by  the  hands  of  the  regicides,  yet  reeking 
with  the  blood  of  their  monarch :    patriarchs  of  constitutional 
government — great  men,  if  there  ever  were  such,  and  men  from 
whom  we  learnt  all  our  original  lessons  and  ideas  of  liberty,  and 
who  anticipated,  at  that  early  period,  almost  all  the  reforms  we 
have  since  carried  into  effect.     I  will  not  carry  you  to  the  Par- 
liament of  1680,  when  England,  on  account  of  the  exclusion 
bill,  was  on  the  brink  of  civil  war.     I  admit  that  these  were 
periods  of  great  popular  excitement ;  and  that,  in  some  cases,  at 
such  periods,  the  House  of  Commons  may  have  gone  further 
than  strict  law  would  warrant.     I  do  not  stand  in  need  of  the.se 
exceptionable  precedents.     There  is  authority  enough  without 
them ;    for,  although  I  have  not  been  happy  enough   to  meet 
with  nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine  out  of  the  thousand  com- 
mentators on  parliamentary  law,  spoken  of  the  other  day  by  one 
of  my  colleagues,  (Mr.  Pickens),  yet  the  thousanth  is  all-suf- 
ficient for  me.     I  mean  honest  Hatsell,  whose  work  may  scarce- 
ly aspire  to  the  dignity  of  a  commentary,  but  is,  at  any  rate,  a 
most  useful  and  faithful  compilation.     If  you  will  turn  to  his 
indexes,  you  will  find  abundance  of  law  for  the  proposition  I 
am  now  maintaining.     The  House  of  Commons,  in  1669,  in  a 
famous  quarrel  with  the  Lords,  about  this  very  question  of  pri- 
vilege, in  the  case  of  a  man  of  the  name  of  Skinner,  (if  I  mis- 
take not),  asserted  two  fundamental  maxims  as  part  of  the  gene- 
ral parliamentary  law:   1st.  That  it  is  the  undoubted  right  of 
every  commoner   to   prepare   and   present  his   petitions  to  the 
house  of  Commons ;  and,  2d.  That  it  is  the  undoubted  right 
and  privilege  of  that  house  to  adjudge  and  determine  how  far 
such  petitions  are  proper  to  be  received.     It  is  true  that  the  pro- 
ceedings in  this  case  were  subsequently — for  reasons  not  affect- 
ing  this   point,   however — erased   from  the  journals ;    but  the 
same  doctrine  was,  in  the  next  generation,  under  circumstances 
altogether  different,  completely  established,  and  has  ever  since 
been   enforced   in   practice,  without  the   slightest   question   or 
opposition.     It  was  I  think,  in  1706,  under  a  whig  ministry, 
some  years  after  the  famous  controversy  with  the  Lords  about 
the  Kent  petition,  that  the  House  of  Commons  adopted  a  rule, 
which  it  made  perpetual  in  1713,  that  no  petition  against  a  gen- 
eral tax  or  money  bill  should  be  received,  except  it  were  special- 


RECOGNITION  OF  HAYTI.  325 

ly  recommended  to  their  consideration  by  the  ministers  of  the 
Crown.  Why '!  Because,  says  Hatsell,  it  were  a  vain  thing  to 
receive  what  the  House  is  predetermined  not  to  consider  ;  and, 
in  a  matter  of  great  national  concernment,  like  the  one  in 
question,  it  is  not  at  liberty  to  consult  the  wishes  and  opinions 
of  any  single  man  or  set  of  men.  It  is,  therefore,  on  every  ac- 
count, the  best  and  the  fairest  course  to  save  the  petitioners 
and  the  House  itself  much  inconvenience  and  loss  of  time,  by  a 
general  exclusion  of  all  such  petitions.  But  the  right  of  the 
House  to  refuse  to  receive  is  fully  established  by  the  standing 
question,  "Shall  this  petition  be  received?"  which  although 
seldom  in  fact  put,  is  in  all  cases  whatever  supposed  to  be  put,  and 
may  at  any  time  be  demanded,  according  to  the  parliamentary 
practice  recognized  by  Mr.  Jefferson.     This  alone  is  conclusive. 

Assuming  it,  then,  as  incontestably  established,  1st,  that  the 
amendment  of  the  constitution  does  not  in  the  least  affect  the 
right  of  this  House  to  regulate  its  proceedings  according  to  the 
settled  law  of  Parliament ;  and  2d,  that,  according  to  that  law, 
there  are  petitions  which  it  is  both  authorised  and  bound  to  re- 
fuse to  receive,  the  only  remaining  question  is,  whether  these 
petitions  fall  within  that  category. 

Upon  this  point,  as  I  said  just  now,  if  I  were  called  upon  in 
the  spirit  of  peace,  and  bona  fide,  with  a  view  to  the  commercial 
benefit  of  the  country,  or  in  order  to  relieve  it  from  some  embar- 
rassing difficulty,  to  receive  a  memorial  like  that  now  offered, 
God  forbid  that  I  should  be  seen  to  treat  it  with  contempt  or 
harshness,  or  should  throw  any  obstacle  in  the  way  of  its  being 
candidly  examined  upon  its  merits  by  a  committee  of  this  House. 
I  say  nothing  as  to  the  proper  course  to  be  taken  there ;  that  is 
another  affair.  But  the  memorials  before  you,  as  I  understand, 
are  but  another  step  in  the  war  which  a  band  of  wicked  conspi- 
rators are  daring  to  wage  upon  the  constitution  and  the  peace  of 
the  country  through  this  House.  It  is  not  for  the  paltry  com- 
merce of  a  horde  of  barbarians  that  agitation  is  beginning  on 
this  subject.  It  is  because  it  affords  a  plausible  pretext  and  a 
convenient  opening  to  a  continued  discussion  of  that  fatal  question 
which  has  been  agitated  in  and  out  of  this  House  of  late,  with 
so  much  vehemence,  with  so  many  extravagances  of  heated 
imagination,  with  apparently  such  fiery  enthusiasm,  that  no  man 
who  considers  what  is  the  genius  of  this  age  can  contemplate  it 
without  anxiety  for  his  country.  Sir,  I  would  awaken  the  public 
mind  at  once  to  the  tremendous  issues  involved  in  this  question. 
Let  me  assure  gentlemen  they  are  mistaken  if  they  suppose  that 
it  is  to  be  managed  by  mere  party  manoeuvring — that  it  is  to  be 
settled  by  a  word-catching  caucus,  splitting  hairs  and  shunning 
difficulties  with  all  the  little  subtleties  of  grammar  and  philology. 
No,  sir,  no  ;  non  tali  auxilio — it  is  a  plain  practical  matter ;  full 


326  RF.rOQNITION  OF  IIAYTI. 

of  deep  and  dreadful  interest,  it  is  true  ;  but  on  that  very  account, 
to  be  treated  without  artifice,  evasion,  or  reservation  of  any  kind. 
You  must  meet  it,  sooner  or  later,  in  all  its  gigantic  extent  and 
importance.  It  is  a  question  in  which  the  destinies  of  such  an 
empire — I  speak  prospectively  as  well  as  of  the  present — as  the 
sun  has  never  yet  shone  upon — of  a  world — are  involved — a 
question  which  you  cannot  seriously  agitate  here,  without  sha- 
king this  whole  continent,  if  you  will  pardon  the  boldness  of 
the  expression,  to  its  foundations.  The  heart  of  a  great  people — 
I  mean  that  people  who  inhabit  the  broad  land  from  the  Susque- 
nannah  to  the  Red  river — from  the  capes  of  Virginia  to  the 
recesses  of  the  Missouri — look  at  the  map — it  is  more  than  half 
the  country — the  heart  of  that  whole  people,  I  say,  throbs  with 
indignation  and  alarm,  when  what  involves  their  life  and  being, 
and  concerns  you  here  nothing,  is  so  wantonly  drawn  into  dis- 
cussion, so  daringly  threatened  with  violence.  My  friend  there 
(Mr.  Dawson)  knows  what  those  feelings  are. 

The  Chair  here  called  Mr.  Legare  to  order.  [Cries  of  "Go  on! 


ffo  on 


i" 


Mr.Legare  proceeded.  This  question,  I  say,  cannot  be  smoth- 
ered or  evaded;  it  must  be  met  at  once;  it  must  be  met  with  the 
wisdom  of  statesmen ;  it  must  be  met  with  the  courage  of  men. 
Gentlemen  should  be  allowed  to  give  not  only  their  votes,  but 
their  reasons.  They  should  be  ready,  they  should  be  eager,  to 
do  so.  The  man,  who  on  such  a  subject  shrinks  from  his  high 
responsibility  to  the  country,  who  is  afraid  to  proclaim  before 
the  civilized  world  his  obedience  to  her  constitution,  his  devotion 
to  her  safety  and  welfare — what  is  he  doing  here?  Such  a  man 
is  far  below  his  place — he  is  utterly  unworthy  of  the  awful 
functions  in  which  his  constituents  have  clothed  him.  There 
was  a  symptom  of  the  times,  he  said,  which  was  particularly 
offensive  to  him.  In  the  conflicts  of  rival  factions  there  seemed 
to  be  men  who  took  delight  in  witnessing,  or  at  least  were  dis- 
posed to  turn  to  account,  the  convulsions  of  the  Southern  mind 
under  the  perpetual  torture  of  this  agitation — who  appeared  to 
flatter  themselves  they  could  treat  our  people  of  the  South  like 
animals,  in  a  chemical  experiment,  under  the  influence  of  poi- 
sonous gases — measuring,  with  cool  precision,  their  capacity  for 
suffering — renewing  their  cruel  agonies,  and  prolonging  them 
just  so  far  as  might  be  necessary  for  the  occasional  purpose, 
without  bringing  on  dissolution.  Sir,  let  me  warn  gentlemen 
of  all  parties — this  will  not  do.  The  most  precious  interests, 
the  dearest  sensibilities,  the  life  and  the  blood  of  our  people,  arc  no 
subject  for  party  speculation — no  stock  in  trade  for  political  ad- 
venturers. The  present  mode  of  proceeding  would  never  calm 
the  feelings  and  the  conscience  of  the  American  people.  The 
question  ought  at  once  to  be  disposed  of,  in  a  fair,  open,  candid, 


RECOGNITION  OF  HAYTI.  327 

and  manly  spirit.  Look  at  the  progress  of  things.  The  aboli- 
tionists came,  and  first  told  the  House  it  must  abolish  slavery  in 
the  District  of  Columbia ;  in  the  next  place,  it  must  refuse  to 
admit  Florida  into  the  Union ;  when  they  asked  it  to  prevent 
the  removal  of  the  black  race  to  more  southern  climates  ;  now — 

Here  the  Chair  interposed.  (Cries  of  Go  on!  go  on!"] 

The  Speaker  said  it  was  not  in  order  to  cry  "go  on"  when  a 
gentleman  was  violating  the  rules  of  order.  If  the  gentleman 
was  permitted  to  proceed,  it  would  open  the  whole  abolition 
question  to  debate,  while  the  House  had  resolved  and  ordered 
that  no  debate  on  the  subject  should  be  entertained.  The  gen- 
tleman must  confine  himself  to  the  rules  of  order.  The  question 
was  on  the  reception  of  a  memorial. 

Mr.  Legare,  protesting  against  the  interruptions  of  the  Chair, 
said  my  objection  against  this  memorial  is  that  it  aims  at  aboli- 
tion— is  a  part  of  a  system — is  not  for  the  benefit  of  commerce, 
but  for  the  ruin  of  the  South. 

The  Chair.  If  the  memorial  had  anything  on  its  face  about 
abolition,  it  would  be  at  once  laid  on  the  table. 

Mr.  Legare.  Well,  sir,  I  want  to  show  that  it  is  a  firebrand 
cast  into  the  House  for  the  worst  purposes;  that  it  originates  in 
a  design  to  revolutionize  the  South,  and  to  convulse  the  Union, 
and  ought,  therefore,  to  be  rejected  with  reprobation.  As  sure 
as  you  live,  sir,  (said  he,)  if  this  course  is  permitted  to  go  on, 
the  sun  of  this  Union  will  go  down — it  will  go  down  in  blood — • 
and  go  down  to  rise  no  more.  I  will  vote  unhesitatingly  against 
nefarious  designs  like  these.  They  are  treason.  Yes,  sir,  I 
pronounce  the  authors  of  such  things  traitors — traitors  not  to 
their  country  only,  but  to  the  whole  human  race.  I  have  a 
clear  constitutional  right  to  refuse  to  receive  such  papers,  and  I 
am  bound,  by  every  tie  of  duty,  to  do  so.  I  have  spoken,  perhaps, 
with  too  much  ardor,  and  I  trust  the  House  will  make  allowance 
for  whatever  may  be  amiss  in  the  unpremeditated  language  I 
have  uttered.  But  I  cannot  express,  by  any  words  I  command, 
a  tithe  of  the  anguish  with  which  I  rise  to  speak  on  the  subject 
at  all.  Without  being,  perhaps,  a  legitimate  democrat — whether 
1  am  or  not,  God  knows ;  I  leave  it  to  the  doctors  of  the  school — 
I  have  been  nursed  from  my  youth  in  an  idolatrous  love  of  that 
most  noble  of  all  forms  of  polity,  republican  government,  and  I 
have  dreamed  for  my  country  the  highest  things  within  the 
reach  of  humanity — a  career  of  greatness  such  as  the  world  has 
never  yet  witnessed.  There  is  one  subject,  and,  so  far  as  I  am 
able  to  perceive,  but  one,  that,  for  the  present  at  least,  threatens 
to  cloud  this  glorious  prospect,  and  to  disappoint  these  high 
hopes. 

It  is  said  this  is  a  question  of  liberty.  Ay,  sir,  it  is  a  question 
of  liberty;  not  a  wild,  visionary,  impracticable  scheme  forgiving 


328  RECOGNITION  OF  HAYTI. 

liberty  to  a  race  utterly  incapable  of  it,  did  our  constitution  even 
permit  us  to  do  so;  but  a  question  involving  tbe  sober,  stable, 
rational,  enduring,  hereditary  liberty  of  the  Anglo-Ameru  nn 
which  has  hitherto  been  identified  with  our  whole  being,  but  of 
which  the  knell  is  struck  whenever  the  schemes  of  these  petition- 
ers shall  have  been  consummated.  Dissolve  this  Union,  and  your 
republican  institutions  are  gone  forever.  In  the  scenes  of  blood 
and  anarchy  which  will  infallibly  succeed,  no  human  prescience 
can  anticipate  precisely  what  results  will  ensue;  but  one  thing, 
at  least,  I  hold  to  be  perfectly  certain,  and  that  is  that  popular 
government  will  cease  to  exist  in  States  engaged  in  perpetual 
hostility  with  one  another.  And  can  gentlemen  bring  themselves 
lightly  to  tamper,  in  spite  of  the  most  solemn  constitutional  obli- 
gations, with  interests  like  these?  Do  they  imagine  that  the 
people  who  sent  them  here  are  prepared  to  peril  the  peace,  the 
union,  the  liberty,  the  hopes,  of  this  continent,  in  an  idle  pursuit 
of  a  mere  visionary,  unattainable  good;  that  they  are  ready  to 
overthrow  the  constitution,  and  to  dismember  the  confederacy, 
in  violation  of  their  most  sacred  duties  under  the  one,  and  their 
unspeakable  interest  in  the  other?  Sir,  I  tell  you  they  are  not. 
I  have  a  consoling  and  triumphant  confidence  in  their  calm 
reason  and  sage  and  serious  morality.  I  am  not  using  the  base 
language  of  adulation.  I  disdain  it.  I  know  that,  like  the  rest  of 
mankind,  our  people  are  fallible  and  often  doing  wrong.  1  have  no 
doubt,  too,  that  we  are  responsible  for  much  of  the  error  into  which 
they  are  occasionally  betrayed ;  that  we  do  not  hold  to  them  the 
sincere  and  courageous  language  of  truth,  and  dare  to  present 
to  them  every  important  issue  in  its  true  character.  But  of  their 
ultimate  decision  on  every  thing  that  relates  to  the  preservation 
of  the  Union,  I  will  not  permit  myself  to  doubt.  I  am  sure 
that,  if  they  were  now  here,  within  the  sound  of  my  voice,  it 
would  not  be  addressed  in  vain  to  their  bosoms.  Let  the  ques- 
tion be  fairly  presented  to  them,  before  it  is  too  late ;  let  them  be 
brought  to  pass  upon  the  true  issue  involved  in  these  schemes, 
before  they  are  driven  to  madness  by  a  most  unhallowed  agita- 
tion— and  all  is  safe. 

I  have  now,  in  a  very  hurried  manner,  gone  through  the  whole 
subject,  so  far  as  it  was  my  purpose  to  deal  with  it.  I  have 
established,  I  trust  satisfactorily,  that  the  amendment  of  the  con- 
stitution has  not  at  all  changed  the  lex  parliamenti  (as  part  of 
the  common  law)  touching  this  matter.  That,  by  the  law  o( 
Parliament  and  the  constitution  of  the  United  States,  this  House 
has  an  undoubted  right  to  adjudge  and  determine  what  petitions 
are  not  proper  to  be  received  by  it.  And,  lastly,  that  the  petitions 
now  in  question  are  in  fact  such  as  are  not  proper  to  be  received; 
and  I  have,  accordingly,  without  hesitation,  voted  against  receiv- 
ing them. 


SOUTHERN  NAVAL  DEPOT, 


Speech,  delivered  in  the  House  of  Representatives  of  the  United  States, 
January  11,  1839. 

The  House,  having  under  consideration  the  bill  providing  for 
a  dry  dock,  at  the  navy  yard,  at  Brooklyn,  New- York,  which 
bill  Mr.  Paynter  proposed  to  amend  by  making  provision  for  a 
similar  improvement  at  Philadelphia,  and  the  question  imme- 
diately pending  being  on  a  further  amendment,  moved  by  Mr. 
Thompson,  to  strike  out  Philadelphia  and  insert  Pensacola — 

Mr.  Legare  said  that,  when  he  entered  the  House  a  few  minutes 
ago,  nothing  was  further  from  his  thoughts  than  that  he  should 
be  then  addressing  the  Chair  in  reply  to  what  he  had  understood 
to  be  a  violent  attack  of  the  gentleman  from  Maine  upon  the 
peaceful  city  which  he  (Mr.  L.)  had  the  honor  still  to  represent. 

[Here  Mr.  Evans  rose  and  disavowed  an  intention  of  saying 
any  thing  that  might  be  offensive  to  Mr.  L's  constituents,  further 
than  a  fair  argument  against  their  claims  to  have  a  navy  yard, 
&c,  might  be  considered  as  offensive.] 

Mr.  Legare.  I  did  not  hear  the  gentleman  myself.  I  received 
my  impressions  from  what  others  understood  the  gentleman  as 
saying.  I  am  informed,  for  instance,  that  he  repeated  the  words, 
"begging,  begging,  begging,"  as  if  to  imply  that  no  importunities 
had  been  spared^  by  the  citizens  of  Charleston  to  obtain  what 
they  knew  they  had  no  right  to  ask  on  broad  grounds  of  justice 
and  policy. 

[Mr.  Evans  explained  again.] 

Mr.  L.  Be  it  so,  sir;  I  am  not  quite  sure  that  I  should  very 
materially  have  altered  the  spirit  of  my  reply,  had  the  gentleman 
really  been  betrayed  into  the  use  of  language  so  unjust  and 
unbecoming.  It  is  not  my  habit  to  sacrifice  the  dignity  and  the 
decencies  of  this  House  to  wrangling  personalities;  nor,  standing 
here  as  the  advocate  of  so  good  a  cause,  would  I  cast  a  suspicion 
upon  it  by  resorting  to  the  language  of  passion.  As  to  the 
imputations  thrown  out  by  the  gentleman  against  Southern  mem- 
bers, for  the  sectional  spirit  (as  it  is  called)  with  which  they 
discuss  matters  of  the  kind,  I  fearlessly  appeal  to  the  House 
whether  the  uniform  tenor  of  my  conduct  and  language  here 
does  not  entirely  exempt  me  from  such  a  charge.  I  have  never 
resorted  to  topics  of  that  sort  without  reluctance,  and  in  the 
vol.  i. — 42 


330  SOUTHERN  NAVAL  DEPOT. 

exercise  of  those  rights  of  self-defence  which  sanction  so  many 
other  deviations  from  strict  formal  rules.  I  do  not  ask  for  my 
constituents  any  thing  but  what  1  think  them  fairly  entitled  to 
any  tiling  which  they  would  not  consent  that  I  should  grant  to 
others.  Hut  it  is  surely  no  objection  to  a  measure,  that,  besides 
being  recommended  to  your  adoption  by  general  reasons  of  na- 
tional policy,  it  will  be  attended  with  peculiar  local  advantages; 
and,  if  my  predecessor,  in  the  zealous  and  able  arguments  which 
hC  from  time  to  time  put  forth  on  this  subject,  did  urge  it  as  a 
weighty  consideration  that  the  establishment  of  a  navy  yard  at 
( 'harleston  would  feed  and  employ  a  strong  body  of  white  me- 
chanics and  laborers,  in  a  part  of  the  country  where  that  descrip- 
tion of  people  are  more  wanted,  and  need,  perhaps,  more  encour 
agement  than  in  any  other,  he  uttered  sentiments  which  1  here 
adopt  for  my  own,  and  of  which  I  will  undertake  to  maintain 
the  propriety  upon  the  most  incontrovertible  grounds. 

To  begin,  however,  with  the  subject  before  the  Committee.  1 
was,  from  the  first,  inclined  to  vote  for  the  appropriation  recom- 
mended by  the  Committee  on  Naval  Affairs ;  and,  although  my 
opinion  has  been  occasionally  shaken  in  the  course  of  the  debate, 
I  am  still  determined  to  do  so.  It  appears  to  me  obviously  pro- 
per that  there  should  be  a  dry  dock  at  New- York — the  great  scat 
ot  our  commerce — the  centre  of  our  navigation — the  port,  in 
short,  which,  in  times  of  actual  service,  is,  for  many  reasons, 
more  likely  to  be  the  point  of  rendezvous  and  resort  than  any 
at  the  North.  This  opinion  I  find  confirmed  by  that  sort  of  evi- 
dence which,  I  agree  with  the  gentleman  from  Maine,  must  gene 
rally  govern,  or,  at  least,  very  much  influence  our  determination 
here — the  demands  of  the  Navy  Department  and  the  reports  of 
the  appropriate  committee  of  this  House.  There  may  be  some 
weight  (I  do  not  think  as  much  as  one  would  be  led  to  ascribe 
to  it  from  the  present  embarrassment  of  the  finances)  in  the  ar- 
gument founded  on  the  necessity  of  retrenchment.  But,  looking 
at  the  immense  resources,  actual  and  eventual,  of  the  country,  i 
will  not  consent  to  neglect  or  to  weaken  any  of  its  military  de- 
fences, simply  because,  from  transient  causes,  our  Treasury  hap- 
pens to  be  rather  low.  Unless  our  affairs  be  miserably  misman- 
aged, a  few  years  will  restore  to  us  a  redundant  revenue,  and  we 
should,  by  refusing  this  money,  only  sacrifice  the  strength  and 
protection  of  the  country,  which  ought  never  for  a  moment  to 
be  neglected,  to  an  ill-timed  and  most  timid  and  unreasonable 
parsimony. 

So  much  for  the  appropriation  called  for  ;  but  the  amendment 
of  my  colleague,  (Mr.  Thompson,)  to  whom  I  consider  the 
country  as  under  a  great  obligation  for  having  drawn  public  at- 
tention to  a  matter  of  such  vast  and  fundamental  importance,  as 
well  as  his  able  speech  and  that  of  another  of  my  colleagues, 


SOUTHERN  NAVAL  DEPOT.  331 

(Mr.  Elmore,)  have  given  a  range  to  this  discussion  which  it 
had  not  at  first ;  and  both  with  a  view  to  aid  them  in  their  most 
laudable  efforts,  and  to  expose  the  fallacies  of  the  gentleman  from 
Maine,  (Mr.  Evans,)  I  will  trespass  upon  the  committee  a  little 
longer  while  I  speak  of  the  defenceless  state  of  the  Southern 
coast,  and  the  urgency  of  its  claims  upon  this  body  for  a  better 
system  of  measures  to  protect  it.  I  deeply  regret,  however,  to 
have  to  speak  on  such  a  subject  so  entirely  without  the  prepara- 
tion to  which  its  magnitude  entitles  it ;  but  it  has  long  occupied 
my  thoughts,  and  I  will  venture  to  throw  out  some  general  ideas 
in  regard  to  it,  in  the  hope  that  such  suggestions  will  not  be  lost 
upon  those  who  have  an  interest  in  the  inquiry,  and  may  find 
sufficient  leisure  to  pursue  it  more  in  detail,  and,  it  is  to  be  hoped, 
to  great  practical  results. 

It  is  impossible,  Mr.  Chairman,  to  cast  your  eyes,  however 
carelessly,  over  a  map  of  the  United  States — and  such  is  the  im- 
portant influence  of  geography,  natural  and  physical,  upon  the 
destinies  of  empire,  that  no  man  can  pretend  to  the  character  of 
a  statesman,  in  such  a  country  as  this,  who  does  not  closely 
study  its  map. — without  at  once  perceiving  that  Pensacola  is  des- 
tined, by  nature,  to  be  the  key  of  the  most  gigantic  commerce 
that  was  ever,  in  the  history  of  the  world,  concentrated  upon  a 
single  spot.  I  speak  not  of  the  West  as  it  is,  wonderful  as  it  is. 
I  speak  of  what  a  very  few  years — for  what  is  a  century  in  the 
life  of  a  nation  ? — will  most  certainly  bring  about.  Every  thing 
on  this  side  the  mountains  will  be  dwarfed  in  the  comparison. 
The  valley  of  the  Mississippi,  in  its  whole  extent,  is  capable  of 
supporting  as  great  a  population  as  that  of  all  Europe  put  toge- 
ther ;  and  its  external  commerce,  borne  upon  the  waters  of  a  sin- 
gle river  to  New-Orleans,  must  follow  the  course  of  the  Gulf 
stream  to  more  northern  latitudes.  There  is  something  over- 
powering in  the  idea  of  such  a  state  of  things,  and  it  is  scarcely 
less  startling  to  reflect  upon  the  facility  with  which  a  foreign 
enemy  may  throw  obstacles  to  any  extent  in  the  way  of  such  a 
trade.  He  has  only  to  blockade  the  mouth  of  the  river  with 
such  a  fleet  as  the  possession  of  a  port  in  the  West  Indies  will 
enable  hiin  to  keep  at  sea,  and  evils,  far  beyond  all  calculation, 
may  be  inflicted  on  the  whole  country  watered  by  its  various 
streams.  Sir,  I  have  only  to  mention  a  name,  which  no  Ameri- 
can can  hear  pronounced  in  connection  with  certain  possibili- 
ties without  some  excitement — Cuba.  Do  you  doubt  that,  in  the 
event  of  another  war  with  England,  for  instance,  she  would 
take  possession  of  that  island,  and  hold  it  if  she  could'.2  She 
already  has  the  keys  of  almost  every  important  sea.  Will  she 
neglect  that  of  the  most  important  of  all  ?  Sir,  it  is  with  a  view 
to  contingencies  so  probable,  to  exigencies  so  pressing  as  these, 
that  I  regard  Pensacola,  according  to  the  best  information  I  pos- 


332  SOUTHERN   NAVAL  DEPOT. 

sess  upon  the  subject,  as  entitled  to  your  most  earnest  attention. 
Looking  to  the  facilities,  in  such  a  country,  of  artificial  commu- 
nications by  canals  and  railways,  and  to  the  great  advantages  it 
possesses  in  the  character  of  its  bar  and  harbor,  that  city  will,  not 
improbably,  be  the  Havre  of  New-Orleans.  You  should  render 
it,  as  far  as  possible,  impregnable — you  should  arm  it  with  every 
means  and  instrument  of  war,  offensive  and  defensive.  It  should 
be  your  Gibraltar.  And  now,  sir,  I  ask  whether,  in  the  face  of 
such  a  prospect  as  this,  it  is  reasoning  like  statesmen  to  argue, 
with  the  gentleman  from  Maine,  that  the  wages  of  labor  will  be 
a  little  higher  there  ;  that  the  munitions  of  war  and  ship  stores 
will  not  be  so  cheap  as  in  New-England?  Does  not  the  gentle- 
man perceive  that  if  this  argument  is  good  for  any  thing,  it 
proves  too  much  for  his  purposes  ;  that  it  would  show  that  we 
ought  to  break  up  the  great  establishment  at  Norfolk,  to  which 
it  applies  just  as  forcibly  as  to  any  other  port  in  the  South  ;  in- 
deed, that  it  would  make  it  necessary  to  crowd  all  your  dry  docks 
and  navy  yards  into  that  part  of  the  country  where  contracts 
could  be  entered  into  upon  the  most  reasonable  terms? 

[In  the  course  of  these  remarks  Mr.  Legare  was  interrupted 
more  than  once  by  Mr.  Evans,  the  latter  gentleman  stating,  at 
some  length,  that  what  he  had  said  on  this  subject  was  not  in- 
tended to  convey  his  own  opinions  so  much  as  to  refute  those  of 
Mr.  Thompson  and  others,  who  contended  for  the  superior  ad- 
vantages of  Pensacola,  in  respect  of  its  forests  of  live  oak,  &c. 
Mr.  Thompson  also  explained.] 

Mr.  L.  replied  that,  although  he  held  himself  responsible  only 
for  his  own  opinions,  yet  he  must  say  that  forests  of  live  oak, 
&c,  were,  at  least,  no  disadvantage. 

But,  sir,  (he  continued,)  to  look  at  the  subject  in  a  point  of 
view  in  which  it  most  deserves  the  consideration  of  statesmen, 
we  are  to  regard  the  seaport  in  question  as  a  place  rVarrnes—a. 
great  port  of  military  equipment.  In  Europe,  where  the  state  of 
war  is  the  basis  of  all  political  systems  and  calculations,  such  a 
point  could  escape  the  observation  of  no  minister  entrusted  with 
the  affairs  of  a  great  nation.  An  ingenious  writer  has  remarked 
that  the  three  men  whose  memories  are  dearest  to  France — I  do 
not  mean  in  the  vulgar  sense  of  the  word  "popularity" — but  who 
have  the  strongest  hold  upon  the  French  mind,  as  identified  with 
the  history  and  the  destinies  of  their  country — Richelieu,  Louis 
XIV.  and  Bonaparte — will  be  remembered  after  all  transitory 
grounds  of  reputation  and  influence  shall  be  passed  away,  as 
founders  of  the  three  great  military  ports  of  Brest,  Dunkirk,  and 
Antwerp.  The  last  of  these  I  have  often  visited  with  interest. 
Its  great  importance  to  the  empire  of  Napoleon  was  well  express- 
ed in  his  saying  that  it  was  a  pistol  loaded  and  presented  at  the 
very  heart  of  England.     The  whole  argument  on  this  subject  is 


SOUTHERN  NAVAL  DEPOT.  333 

summed  up  in  that  sentence;  it  is,  that  your  preparations  should 
be  made  as  near  as  possible  to  the  spots  where  they  would  be 
most  wanted.  Consider,  for  a  moment,  what  is  passing  in  the 
other  hemisphere.  The  navigation  of  the  Bosphorus  and  the 
Hellespont  is  almost  become  the  pivot  of  European  politics. 
Russia  must  have  this  outlet  for  her  commerce.  It  is  only  our 
old  quarrel  with  Spain  about  the  navigation  of  the  Mississippi 
and  the  use  of  New-Orleans  as  an  entrepot.  Well,  sir,  Pensacola 
commands  our  Bosphorus  and  Hellespont,  or  will  enable  us  to 
prevent  others  from  commanding  it ;  and  if  we  do  not,  by  a  fore- 
sight worthy  of  the  lawgivers  of  a  great  nation,  anticipate  events 
by  preparing  it  at  once  to  serve  the  purposes  for  which  Provi- 
dence seems  to  have  marked  it  out,  we  shall,  I  have  no  doubt  at 
all  of  it,  be  made  to  feel  its  importance  by  disastrous  experience 
in  some  future  war. 

But  to  proceed  to  what  the  gentleman  from  Maine  said  in  con- 
nection with  the  claim  of  the  citizens  of  Charleston  to  have  that 
place  used  as  a  naval  station,  and  provided  with  a  navy  yard,  for 
sloops  of  war.  I  have  already  said  that  the  gentleman  is  mis- 
taken in  supposing  that  this  claim  rests  upon  the  ground  of  fa- 
vor— that  it  was  merely  because  an  establishment  of  the  kind 
would  be  a  great  encouragement  to  mechanics,  so  much  wanted 
in  that  part  of  the  country — although  this  would  certainly  be  a 
very  signal  incidental  recommendation  of  the  measure — that  I 
should  urge  it  upon  this  House  on  a  proper  occasion.  I  maintain 
that  it  comes  fairly  within  that  principle  which  the  most  strenu- 
ous advocates  of  freedom  of  trade  have  admitted  to  be  a  fair  ex- 
ception to  their  general  rule  ;  and  that  is  that  whatever  is  ne- 
cessary to  the  defence  of  a  country  ought  to  be  protected  at  some 
cost  by  the  government.  It  stands,  for  instance,  on  precisely  the 
same  principle  as  the  navigation  act,  of  which  the  gentleman 
seemed  to  speak  with  a  perfect  unconsciousness  that  it  was  a  case 
in  point  against  his  own  argument.  By  the  navigation  act  a 
monopoly  was  secured,  and  from  the  foundation  of  the  govern- 
ment had  been  continually  secured,  to  the  Northern  and  Eastern 
States,  of  the  whole  coasting  trade.  It  had  been  secured  to  them 
for  the  very  purpose  of  breeding  the  seamen,  the  possession  of 
which  by  those  States  the  gentleman  thought  a  sufficient  argu- 
ment to  show  that  no  naval  establishments  ought  to  be  kept  up 
at  the  South,  because  they  would  cost  a  little  more.  He  had 
quite  forgotten  that  the  South  had  borne,  without  any  compen- 
sation, its  share  in  this  tax  for  the  support  of  Northern  navigation, 
and  borne  it  without  murmuring,  on  the  ground  of  the  necessity 
to  the  defence  of  the  country  in  time  of  war,  that  its  commercial 
marine  should  be  encouraged  in  time  of  peace  ;  for  his  colleague 
over  the  way  (Mr.  Elmore)  had  told  them  truly  that  we  were 


334  SOUTHERN  NAVAL  DEPOT. 

willing  to  divide  our  last  dollar  with  them  to  repel  a  common 
enemy. 

[Here  Mr.  Evans  interrupted  Mr.  Legare,  saying  that  the 
monopoly  was  not  for  the  benefit  of  Northern  sailors  alone,  but 
of  all  the  American  shipping  interest.] 

Mr.  L.  Nominally,  to  be  sure,  it  is  so ;  but,  the  fact  being 
that  all  our  seamen  are  residents  of  the  North,  it  is  perfectly  ac- 
curate to  say  that  it  is  virtually  a  tax  levied  upon  the  whole 
country  for  the  benefit  of  Northern  navigation.  Foreign  com-. 
]>etition,  which  would  lower  freights  for  Southern  produce,  is 
entirely  excluded  by  it,  and  I  have  reason  to  know  that  this  is 
no  imaginary  advantage.  I  heard  frequent  complaints,  from  our 
consuls  abroad,  that  the  Swedes  and  other  nations  in  the  north 
of  Europe  were  interfering  with  us,  as  carriers,  to  a  fearful  ex- 
tent ;  so  much  so,  that  great  doubts  seemed  to  be  entertained  by 
these  experienced  persons  about  the  policy  of  our  treaties  of  re- 
ciprocity in  this  particular.  I  say,  then,  sir,  that  the  objection 
of  its  costing  a  little  more  to  maintain  these  naval  establishments 
necessary,  as  I  think  them,  to  the  permanent  defence  and  secu- 
rity of  a  country — besides  that,  it  really  is  one  of  no  weight  at 
all — comes  with  a  very  ill  grace  from  the  lips  of  a  gentleman 
from  the  Eastern  States. 

Now,  sir,  I  claim  for  Charleston  a  navy  yard,  for  the  construc- 
tion and  repair  of  sloops,  on  the  ground  that  there  is  not  a  sin- 
gle port  of  military  equipment  along  the  whole  line  of  coast, 
immense  as  it  is,  from  the  capes  of  Virginia  to  Pensacola :  that 
this  coast  is  precisely  the  frontier  most  exposed,  and  exposed  to 
the  most  dangerous  attacks  in  the  event  of  a  maritime  war  with 
any  great  European  power  ;  that,  from  its  situation  in  regard  to 
the  Bermudas  and  the  West  India  islands — the  latter  especially 
likely  to  become  either  the  strongholds  of  the  great  powers,  with 
a  view  to  hold  us  in  check,  or  dens  of  picaroons  and  bucaniers — 
this  exposure  becomes  doubly  perilous  to  it.  I  maintain  that  to 
leave  this  vast  tract  of  country  in  so  helpless  a  state  with  regard 
to  maritime  warfare,  as  to  be  unable  to  fit  out  the  smallest  vessel 
of  war,  is  a  neglect  wholly  inexcusable  on  any  ground  of  equal 
justice  or  wise  systematic  policy.  There  are  two  circumstances, 
especially,  that  combine  to  render  the  situation  of  Charleston  pe- 
culiarly interesting  as  a  port  of  equipment  for  such  vessels  as 
may  be  able  to  pass  over  her  bar.  The  first  is  one  agreed  in,  so 
far  as  1  know,  by  all  who  have,  whether  officially  or  otherwise, 
examined  this  subject ;  and  that  is,  that,  it  is  the  nearest  port  to 
the  windward  station  on  the  West  India  islands.  The  advan- 
tages of  this  proximity  to  a  fleet  on  that  station  are  too  obvious 
to  need  a  remark,  especially  when  you  consider  that,  in  suppres- 
sing piracies  on  those  seas,  the  description  of  vessels  employed  is 


SOUTHERN  NAVAL  DEPOT.  335 

precisely  that  to  which  a  bar,  not  very  deep,  would  present  no 
obstacle,  and  which  would  need  the  most  frequent  renewals  of 
supplies.  But  the  other  circumstance  alluded  to  is  still  more 
important.  It  is  the  immense  importance  of  Charleston  as  a  place 
cFarmes  and  point  d'appui  to  the  whole  surrounding  low  coun- 
try of  South-Carolina,  and  even  of  Georgia,  and  a  part  of  North- 
Carolina.  I  have  had  occasion  to  urge  this  subject  very  earnest- 
ly upon  the  attention  of  the  Navy  Commissioners,  as  well  as  our 
Committee  on  Naval  Affairs.  For  reasons  which  appear  to  me 
quite  sufficient,  I  shall  not,  at  present,  dwell  upon  it.  But  I  un- 
dertake to  say  that,  were  this  country  governed  by  a  wise  mili- 
tary despot — if  such  a  one  there  be — a  Napoleon,  for  instance — 
he  would,  in  the  view  of  contingencies  which  it  requires  no  deep 
political  forecast  to  anticipate,  lose  no  time  in  arming  the  city  of 
Charleston  with  all  the  instruments  and  resources  of  defence 
which  its  situation  requires  and  admits  of.  I  look  upon  that 
place,  peculiarly  blessed  as  it  is  with  a  most  salubrious  climate,* 
to  persons  accustomed  to  it  at  all  times — even  to  strangers,  with 
the  exception  of  three  months  at  an  average  interval  of  seven  or 
eight  years — in  the  midst  of  a  country  desolated  with  malaria — 
as  one  of  which  it  is  impossible  to  overrate  the  importance. 
More  especially  is  it  so,  now  that  its  commercial  prosperity, 
through  extended  and  extending  communications  with  the  inte- 
rior, seems  to  be  returning  to  it,  and  that  every  thing  in  its  con- 
dition is  awakening  hopes  of  a  great  increase  of  capital,  enter- 
prise and  population.  Certainly,  too,  as  I  said  just  now,  it  will 
be  a  great  incidental  advantage,  and  ought  to  be  a  strong  addi- 
tional motive  with  the  government  to  endow  it  with  all  the  es- 
tablishments necessary  to  its  permanent  defence,  that  the  money 
laid  out  there  will  do  something  more  than  provide  it  with  the 
means  of  protection  in  war  ;  that  it  will  stimulate  the  industry 
already  awakened  by  other  causes  ;  that  it  will  add  to  the 
strength  of  those  laboring  classes  so  much  wanted  in  the  South- 
ern country  ;  that  it  will  be  a  "twice  blessed"  cause  of  prosperity 
by  at  once  inspiring  greater  security  and  furnishing  motives  to 
further  improvement.  As  to  the  spirit  in  which  we  have  prefer- 
red and  prosecuted  our  claims,  we  are  somewhat  embarrassed  to 
know  how  we  shall  act.  We  were  told  yesterday,  by  the  gen- 
tleman from  Virginia,  (Mr.  Wise,)  that  to  get  any  thing,  even  jus- 
tice, here,  we  must  be  sturdy  and  indefatigable  beggars  ;  and  that 
Southern  people  cannot,  or  will  not,  become  so.  We  are  to-day 
twitted  by  the  gentleman  from  Maine,  (Evans,)  with  the  exces- 

[*  Salubri  loco  in  regione  pestilenti,  says  Cicero  of  Rome,  de  Repub.  ii.,  G — 
Niebuhr,  ii.,  413.  It  was  then,  as  now,  sickly  on  the  Esquinal  and  Viminal. 
The  country  people  had,  during  the  summer  months,  to  take  refuge  in  towns. 
All  over  Italy,  the  climate  is  a  negative  datum  in  inquiring  into  the  site  of  old 
towns.  All  on  hills,  and  where  none  can  now  live  in  summer,— no  town  for  2500 
years. 


336  SOUTHERN  NAVAL  DEPOT. 

sive  eagerness  of  our  importunities.  I  trust  I  have  done  sonic 
thing  to  render  these,  for  the  future,  less  necessary,  and  that  the 
House  will  hereafter  look  at  the  subject  in  the  true  national  point 
of  view  in  which  it  is  so  fully  entitled  to  its  gravest  considera- 
tion. I  shall  uot  myself,  it  is  probable,  have  an  opportunity  of 
pleading  the  cause  when  it  shall  come  up  in  its  turn,  but  1  am 
sure  it  cannot  be  presented  in  vain  to  men  who  shall  survey  the 
whole  subject  in  the  comprehensive  spirit  of  statesmen. 

The  gentleman  from  Maine,  not  content  with  objecting  to  the 
founding  of  particular  establishments  in  different  parts  of  the 
South,  on  grounds  of  the  merest  parsimony,  seemed  to  think  it 
perfectly  reasonable  that  that  section  of  country  should  make 
greater  pecuniary  sacrifices  than  any  other,  in  consideration  of 
certain  imaginary  advantages  of  political  power  and  influence. 
My  own  opinion  is.  that  the  ratio  of  population  and  direct  taxes 
was  a  most  mistaken  concession  on  the  part  of  the  South ;  but, 
without  touching  here  a  question  which  is  precluded  by  the 
constitution,  I  venture  to  say  that  it  is  impossible  for  any  powers 
of  arithmetic,  to  compute  the  amount  of  the  price  paid  by  it  for 
the  blessings  of  the  Union.  Sir,  I  do  not  affect  to  question  these 
blessings — far,  very  far,  from  it.  They  are  the  most  precious 
which  any  form  of  government  can  secure  to  a  country — bless- 
ings of  peace,  of  liberty,  and  of  glory.  Our  people  have  paid 
their  contributions  to  the  general  weal,  in  whatever  form  they 
have  been  demanded  ;  and  they  have  paid  them,  whenever  de- 
manded within  the  limits  of  the  constitution,  with  willing  hearts 
and  with  self-devoted  generosity.  But  let  not  gentlemen  from 
other  parts  of  the  country  deceive  themselves  into  an  idea  that 
we  have  not  bought  these  blessing  at  an  immense  price  ;  or  that 
we  are  not  fully  aware  of  it.  I  solemnly  protest  that  I  speak  of 
such  things  with  the  deepest  reluctance,  and  shall  not  now  do 
more  than  just  hint  the  most  general  view  of  a  subject  full  of 
grave  matter  for  reflection.  Sir,  in  the  scheme  of  God's  provi- 
dence, there  is  compensation  in  all  things  ;  and  the  South,  if  it 
labors,  as  it  certainly  does  labor,  under  several  disadvantages 
with  regard  to  commerce  and  industry,  had,  in  its  fertile  soil  and 
privileged  staple  commodities,  the  means  of  indemnifying  itself 
to  a  considerable  degree,  had  all  that  was  drawn  from  the  soil  by 
taxation  been  returned  to  it  in  expenditure,  and  had  her  com- 
merce and  industry  been  protected  to  the  exclusion  of  those  of 
the  other  States.  We  should  have  had  sailors  of  our  own,  had 
not  the  navigation  act  of  the  Union  enabled  those  of  the  East  to 
become  our  carriers.  We  should  have  had  importing  merchants 
in  our  great  cities,  had  not  merchants  of  New- York,  &c,  with- 
out the  disadvantages  of  residence,  been  enabled  to  enjoy  among 
us  all  the  benefits  of  citizenship.  This  topic  is  a  fearful  one,  sir, 
and  may  be  pushed  much  further,  but  I  forbear. 


SOUTHERN  NAVAL  DEPOT.  337 

I  have  said  enough,  however,  to  expose  the  radical  futility  and 
injustice  of  the  arguments  which  would  deprive  us  of  institu- 
tions and  establishments,  of  which  no  great  country  ought  to  be 
destitute,  on  no  better  ground  than  that  they  will  cost  a  little 
more  in  our  cities  than  in  those  of  the  North. 

I  repeat,  in  conclusion,  that  I  claim  nothing  for  my  constituents 
to  which  I  shall  not  be  able  to  show  they  are  entitled  on  the 
broadest  grounds  of  justice  and  policy,  and  I  shall  expect  that 
every  such  claim  will  be  unhesitatingly  granted  by  the  House. 


vol.  i. — 43 


OFFICIAL  DEFALCATIONS. 


Speech  delivered  in  the  House  of  Representatives  of  the  United  States, 
January  15,  1839. 

Mr.  Legare  said  he  would,  in  the  remarks  with  which  he 
was  about  to  trouble  the  House,  confine  himself,  as  much  as  pos- 
sible, to  the  subject  immediately  submitted  to  its  consideration. 
He  said  as  much  as  possible,  because  the  questions  that  had  for 
some  time  past  occupied  and  agitated  the  public  mind  were  so 
complicated,  and  ran  so  naturally  into  one  another,  that  it  was 
not  very  easy  to  single  out  any  one  of  them,  and  treat  of  it  as  if 
it  were  perfectly  isolated.  As  he  trusted,  however,  that  he  should 
have  an  opportunity — perhaps  more  than  one — before  the  close 
of  the  session,  to  explain  at  large  his  views  in  regard  to  these 
high  matters,  he  would  content  himself,  for  the  present,  with 
stating  and  enforcing  the  reasons  which  had  determined  him — 
and  he  thought  would  (as  they  ought)  determine  the  House — 
to  vote,  without  any  hesitation,  for  the  amendment  of  the  gentle- 
man from  Virginia.  He  would  be  glad  if  he  were  fortunate 
enough  to  satisfy  the  Chair  itself  that  the  course  marked  out  by 
that  amendment  was  the  proper  one.  He  would  not  for  the  world 
that  any  thing  he  did  in  that  hall  should  be  fairly  construed  in- 
to a  wilful  trespass  upon  the  jurisdiction  of  the  Chair ;  much 
less,  into  a  wanton  slur  upon  the  character  of  the  Speaker.  He 
had  (he  said)  too  high  a  sense  of  what  was  due  to  the  relations 
that  subsisted  between  that  gentleman  and  the  House,  as  presi- 
dent and  members  of  a  high  deliberative  body.  He  knew  that 
the  official  dignity  of  that  officer  was  identified  with  that  of  the 
House :  that  his  personal  feelings  are  recommended,  in  a  peculiar 
manner,  to  its  tenderest  protection ;  and  he  would  promise  the 
Chair  that  it  might  count  with  confidence  on  receiving  at  his 
hands — what  certainly  it  would  cost  him  no  great  effort  of  gene- 
rosity to  afford — the  most  indulgent,  the  most  delicate,  and  the 
most  scrupulous  attention,  both  to  the  one  and  to  the  other. 

But,  sir,  (said  Mr.  L.,)  if  the  Speaker  stands,  as  I  think  he 
does,  in  a  false  position  in  relation  to  this  subject,  it  is  his  friends, 
they,  I  mean,  who  profess  to  be  his  exclusive  friends — that  have 
placed  him  in  it.  Not  satisfied  with  claiming  for  the  Chair,  as 
belonging  to  it  of  right,  a  power  it  does  not  possess,  they  have 
chosen  to  rest  their  pretensions  on  grounds  as  bad  as  the  claim 


OFFICIAL  DEFALCATIONS.  339 

itself.  Not  only  does  their  argument  not  prove  what  they  pur- 
pose, but  it  leads,  if  it  proves  any  thing  at  all,  to  the  very  oppo- 
site conclusion.  If  their  law  is  bad,  their  logic  is  worse.  In- 
stead of  showing  that  the  House  ought,  as  its  rules  now  stands, 
to  confide  the  appointment  of  this  committee  to  the  Speaker,  it 
would  justify  the  House  in  depriving  him  of  the  power,  even  if 
it  hitherto  belonged  to  him.  What  is  it  ?  Say  the  gentleman, 
your  committee  ought  to  be  composed  of  members  of  whom  a 
majority  should  be  favorable  to  the  administration.  This  is  their 
first  assumption.  Then  they  proceed  to  their  second  proposition, 
which  is  that  the  Speaker  is  pledged  to  his  party,  and  bound 
upon  principle  to  appoint  such  a  committee ;  and  from  these  pre- 
mises they  draw  their  conclusion  that  he  is  properly  vested  with 
power  to  appoint  it,  and  should  be  allowed  to  exercise  it  in  this 
case.  In  other  words,  the  House,  which  has  been  called  upon 
by  the  Executive  to  institute  an  extraordinary  inquiry  into  the 
causes  of  a  defalcation  itself  so  extraordinary  as  to  demand  the 
the  most  rigid  scrutiny,  ought,  contrary,  as  I  shall  show,  to  every 
sound  principle,  to  confide  that  inquiry  to  a  committee  so  consti- 
tuted as  to  be,  by  the  confession  of  gentlemen,  advocates  rather 
than  judges  of  the  department  of  the  government  whose  con- 
duct is  the  subject  of  investigation. 

Nothing,  indeed,  can  be  more  extraordinary  than  the  whole 
course  of  those  professing  to  be  the  exclusive  friends  of  the  ad- 
ministration on  this  subject.  If  a  stranger  to  the  proceedings  of 
this  House  had  happened  to  come  into  it,  for  the  first  time,  when 
the  gentleman  from  New- York  was  making  what  I  must  be  per- 
mitted to  call  his  very  singular  opening  speech — a  speech  in 
which  he  said  a'.l  that  he  ought  not  to  have  said,  and  left  unsaid 
all  that  he  ought  to  have  said — a  speech  which  he  yesterday 
boasted  had  occupied  the  House  but  ten  minutes,  and  in  the 
course  of  which,  I  will  add,  he  did  not  give  a  single  second  to 
any  argument  to  show  that  the  investigation  he  demanded  should 
be  carried  on  at  all — such  a  stranger  would  naturally  have  asked 
what  foul  conspiracy  had  been  detected  ?  who  they  were  that 
were  moving  with  such  "a  stealthy  pace,"  in  deep  darkness  to 
some  purpose  as  dark — 

[Here  Mr.  Cambreleng  disclaimed  any  intention  of  indulging 
in  denunciation,  and  asked  what  he  had  said  that  could  be  so 
interpreted.] 

Mr.  Legare.  Did  the  gentleman  mean  nothing  by  "voting  in 
the  dark,"  and  "shunning  responsibility  ?"  Did  he  mean  nothing 
by  the  private  interests  to  which  he  so  significantly  alluded  l 
Would  he  venture  to  utter  imputations,  in  an  assembly  of  gen- 
tlemen, about  "Morris  Canals,"  and  things  of  that  sort,  of  which 
he  (Mr.  L.)  knew  nothing,  and  then  ask,  so  innocently,  what  he 
had  said  that  could  be  considered  as  denunciation? 


340  OFFICIAL  DEFALCATIONS. 

[Mr.  Cambreleng  here  made  some  explanation,  (scarcely  heard 
by  the  reporter,)  of  which  the  purport  seemed  to  be  that  what 
he  had  said  on  the  subject  of  the  conservatives  and  the  Morris 
( 'anal  was  in  reply  to  Mr.  Wise,  who  urged  as  a  reason,  against 
the  Speaker's  appointing  the  committee,  that  it  would  be  so  con- 
stituted as  to  shield  the  wrong-doers  of  his  own  party — that  he 
made  no  charge  himself,  &c] 

Mr.  Legare.  Sir,  I  call  the  attention  of  the  House  and  of  the 
country  to  the  avowal  that  has  been  just  made.  The  gentleman 
from  New- York  is  one  of  the  most  ancient  and  experienced  mem- 
bers of  this  House  ;  he  is  its  official  leader:  the  accredited  organ 
of  the  administration  ;  a  guide  and  an  adviser,  followed  by  a  great 
party  here ;  and  does  he  talk  of  our  shunning  responsibility  and 
shielding  fraud — does  he  hint  at  combinations  to  protect  pecula- 
tors, because  they  disgrace  this  or  that  political  party  by  assu- 
ming its  name — and  then  come  forward  before  the  American 
people,  and  coolly  confess  that  he  has  uttered  language  of  this 
sort  without  any  sense  of  the  responsibility  which  it  imposes 
upon  him — that  they  were  mere  idle  words,  thrown  out  at  ran- 
dom against  a  gentleman  of  one  party,  because  he  and  his  friends 
had  been  attacked  by  another  gentleman  of  a  different  party  ? 
But  I  will  omit  what  I  was  going  to  say  on  this  head.  I  will 
not  hold  the  gentleman  to  language  so  inconsiderately  uttered. 
I  will  proceed  with  the  argument  which  he  said  not  a  syllable  to 
impugn,  and  will  show  conclusively  that,  by  adopting  the  amend- 
ment of  the  gentleman  from  Virginia,  the  House,  far  from  de- 
parting from  every  precedent,  violating  every  principle,  and  tram- 
pling under  foot  the  rights  of  the  Qhair,  as  had  been  so  confi- 
dently alleged,  will  only  be  exercising  its  own  undoubted  rights, 
according  to  the  very  letter  of  its  positive  and  written  rules. 

Why,  sir,  it  was  but  a  very  few  moments  after  the  gentleman 
from  New- York  had  taken  his  seat  that  the  Speaker  read  from 
the  Chair  the  law  which,  from  time  immemorial,  has  governed 
the  practice  of  this  House.  By  our  rules,  the  Speaker  is  charged 
with  the  app&intment  of  committees,  unless  the  House  shall 
see  fit  to  order  otherwise,  in  which  case  they  shall  be  chosen  by 
ballot.  The  law  is  on  your  table — it  stares  you  in  the  face — it 
is,  clear,  direct,  unequivocal.  In  general,  the  appointment  of 
committees  is  referred  to  the  Speaker,  as  was  said  by  my  col- 
league over  the  way,  (Mr.  Pickens,)  for  the  sake  of  convenience, 
but  the  unquestionable  power  of  this  House  to  make  the  appoint- 
ment itself  has  been  expressly  reserved ;  and,  whenever  a  case 
shall  arise  calling  for  the  exercise  of  it,  the  choice  shall  be  made 
by  ballot.  And  now,  sir,  I  ask,  how  comes  it  that  nothing  was 
ever  heard  before  of  the  darkness  and  the  odiousness  of  this  form 
of  proceeding?  Are  we  better  or  wiser  than  our  predecessors? 
Have  we  any  lights  on  the  subject  now  which  we  did  not  possess 


OFFICIAL  DEFALCATIONS,  341 

when  those  rules  were  adopted ')  And,  if  it  be  admitted  that 
there  are  any  cases  in  which  this  rule  should  be  enforced,  can  it 
be  denied  that  this  is  such  a  case  ? 

But,  before  I  proceed  to  show  this,  as  I  trust,  conclusively,  I 
will  say  a  few  words  upon  a  subject  which  has  been  more  than 
once  alluded  to  in  our  debates,  and  seems,  from  several  things 
that  have  been  recently  said  in  the  House,  not  to  be  sufficiently 
understood  by  gentlemen.  I  mean  the  principles  of  parliament- 
ary law  that  ought  to  govern  the  appointment  of  committees  and 
their  relation  to  the  house. 

We  have  very  generally  deviated  in  this  country  from  the 
practice  of  the  House  of  Commons,  and  what  I  have  understood 
to  have  been  that  of  our  own  legislative  assemblies  at  an  earlier 
period.  In  the  House  of  Commons  there  are  no  standing  com- 
mittees at  all.  The  principles  involved  in  the  measures  proposed 
for  its  adoption  are  uniformly  discussed  and  settled  in  the  House, 
on  resolution,  or  on  a  motion  for  a  committee.  When  the  ma- 
jority of  the  House  has  determined  that  a  report  by  bill  shall  be 
made  on  any  subject,  in  conformity  with  principles  thus  previ- 
ously established,  a  committee,  of  which  the  majority  are  always 
friends  of  the  proposed  measure,  is  named  to  mature  and  perfect 
its  details.  The  propriety  of  this  course  is  obvious,  and  it  has 
the  merit  of  precluding  some  very  inconvenient  consequences 
of  our  practice,  according  to  which  our  committees,  instead  of 
being  mere  ministerial  agents  of  the  House,  are  turned  into  a 
sort  of  sub-legislatures,  passing  upon  the  principles  of  all  mea- 
sures committed  to  them,  and  forestalling,  in  some  degree,  and 
prejudicing  the  opinions  of  the  House.  According  to  the  strict 
parliamentary  course,  committees  have  the  merit  of  reflect- 
ing, with  perfect  exactness,  all  the  shades  of  feeling  and  opin- 
ion that  pass  over  the  minds  of  a  deliberative  assembly  in 
the  fluctuations  of  debate — so  that  there  is  scarcely  a  possibility 
that  such  difficulties,  both  as  to  the  principles  and  the  details 
of  a  measure,  as  so  frequently  embarrass  the  proceedings  of  this 
House  after  a  report  has  been  made,  should  ever  arise  there.  But 
there  is  an  evil  attending  our  practice  which  is  more  serious 
than  any  mere  inconvenience  in  its  proceedings.  The  Speaker, 
being  almost  invariably  elected  as  the  representative  of  a  party, 
is  expected  to  appoint  our  committees  on  party  principles;  and 
so  it  happens  that  the  Executive,  where  it  has  a  majority  in  this 
House  at  the  opening  of  a  Congress,  exercises  through  the  Chair 
an  influence  which  is  unknown  in  the  constitutional  monarchies 
of  Europe,  and  is  enabled,  through  the  chairmen  of  our  own 
committees,  to  give  a  direction  to  the  business  of  the  House  and 
the  opinions  of  the  country  the  very  opposite  of  that  which 
would  be  impressed  upon  them  by  the  fairly  expressed  sense  of 


342  OFFICIAL  DEFALCATIONS. 

a  majority  here.*  So  far  as  the  committees,  connected  with  the 
great  executive  departments  of  the  Government  are  concerned, 
there  is  some  plausibility  in  the  pretension  that  the  administration, 
with  which  the  great  bulk  of  our  most  important  measures  orig- 
inates, ought  to  have  a  majority  of  its  friends  upon  them.  At 
any  rate  the  practice  is  now  so  inveterate  that  it  is  too  late  to 
find  fault  with  it;  but  surely  this  is  no  reason  why  a  principle 
so  irregular  should  be  extended  to  other  cases,  and,  least  of  all, 
to  such  cases  as  that  before  the  House.  And  this  leads  me  back 
to  the  proposition  from  which  I  digressed  just  now;  which  is 
that  if  there  ever  was  an  extraordinary  case,  a  case  calling  for 
the  exercise  of  the  power  reserved  to  the  House,  of  electing  its 
own  committees,  that  case  is  the  one  under  consideration. 

What  is  it,  sir?  The  administration,  through  its  official  organ 
in  this  House,  conies  here  and  demands,  at  our  hands,  a  commit- 
tee— to  do  what?  Why,  to  inquire  how  it  happened  that  one  of 
the  principle  agents  of  the  Executive  has  been  guilty  of  malver- 
sation in  office.  What  right,  in  the  first  place,  has  the  Executive 
to  make  any  such  call  upon  this  House?  What  have  we  to  do 
with  the  conduct  of  officers  appointed  by  it — removable  at  its 
will,  subjected  perpetually  to  its  censure  and  superintendence, 
responsible  to  it  for  their  good  behaviour,  and  for  whose  good 
behaviour  it  is  itself  responsible  to  the  country  through  this 
House?  The  very  proposal  of  such  an  interference  as  this 
implies  a  confusion  of  ideas,  which  can  only  be  accounted  for 
by  the  extraordinary  development  of  the  executive  power  which 
has  taken  place  in  the  silent  progress  of  things,  and  to  which 
we  are  become  so  much  accustomed  that  we  are  losing  sight  of 
the  simplest  and  most  elementary  principles  of  our  Government. 
What  is  the  meaning  of  that  fundamental  separation  of  the 
executive,  the  legislative,  and  the  judicial  powers — of  what  prac- 
tical effect  will  it  be — if  such  a  system  as  is  implied  in  the  motion 
of  the  gentleman  from  New- York  (Mr.  Cambreleng)  should  be 
carried  out  in  the  appointment  of  a  committee,  according  to  the 
wishes  of  the  administration — a  system  by  which  we  shall  be 
made  to  assume  the  responsibility  of  another  department  of  the 
Government,  without  any  of  the  powers  essential  to  the  per- 
formance of  its  duties — a  system  by  which  whatever  is  odious 
in  that  responsibility  shall  fall  to  our  lot,  without  any  of  the 
honor,  the  influence,  or  the  efficiency,  that  should  accompany  it? 
Sir,  the  constitution  contemplates  no  such  confusion  and  conse- 
quent destruction  of  responsibilities.  We  are  not  placed  here 
as  the  associate,  but  the  antagonist,  not  as  copartners,  but  as  a 

*E.g.  the  case  of  the  sub-treasury.  The  Committee  of  Ways  and  Means, 
appointed  by  the  Speaker,  has  repeatedly  reported  a  bill,  which  has  as  often  been 
rejected  by  the  House. 


OFFICIAL  DEFALCATIONS.  343 

check  and  counterpoise,  to  the  Executive.  We  are  to  watch  it 
with  a  jealous  eye,  to  call  it  to  continual  account,  to  inquire,  to 
impeach,  to  punish  it.  We  are  the  grand  jury — the  great  inquest 
of  the  country — our  business  is  inquisitorial.  We  represent,  in 
a  word,  the  popular  jealousy  of  power.  When,  therefore,  the 
Executive  asks  us  to  appoint  a  committee  of  this  kind,  our  an- 
swer, if  it  conform  to  the  true  theory  of  the  Government,  must 
be,  "We  shall  appoint  one,  but  not  for  your  behoof — we  hold 
you  to  your  whole  responsibility  under  the  constitution;  if  we 
look  at  all  into  this  business,  it  will  of  course  be  with  a  view  to 
discover  and  to  correct  your  errors,  and,  if  need  be,  to  visit  them 
with  appropriate  penalties.  The  very  fact  that  it  is  necessary  to 
inquire  at  all  requires  the  inquisition  to  be  severe,  unsparing, 
and,  in  some  sort,  even  hostile  to  you."  With  what  sort  of  color, 
then,  can  you  come  here,  and,  acknowledging  by  the  very  re- 
quest you  make  that  there  is  occasion  for  the  exercise  of  our 
powers  as  a  check  upon  the  Executive,  demand,  in  the  same 
breath,  that  we  shall  exercise  those  powers  under  your  dictation, 
and  through  your  friends,  to  be  appointed  in  the  usual  way  on 
party  grounds. 

Sir,  if  I  stopped  here,  every  body,  I  think,  would  agree  that 
the  argument  sufficiently  establishes  that  if  there  ever  was  a 
case  calling  for  the  election  of  a  committee  by  the  House  itself, 
and  not  its  appointment  by  the  Chair — especially  if  it  is  to  act 
on  the  principle,  avowed  by  its  friends  here,  of  the  right  of  the 
Government  to  a  control  of  the  committee — that  case  is  the  one 
before  you.  But  this  is  by  no  means  all.  The  argument  I  have 
hitherto  urged  would  be  good  under  any  circumstances.  How 
much  more  cogent  is  it  under  what  no  one  can  deny  are  the 
very  extraordinary  circumstances  of  the  present  case?  What 
are  these?  It  is  now  ten  years  since  a  man,  represented  by 
gentlemen  themselves  as  laboring  under  the  darkest  imputations, 
and  especially  obnoxious  to  suspicion  in  regard  to  his  prudence 
and  fidelity  in  money  matters,  was  appointed  by  the  late  Presi- 
dent to  one  of  the  most  important  pecuniary  trusts — perhaps  the 
most  important — in  this  country.  I  understood  the  gentleman 
from  New- York  (Mr.  Cambreleng)  to  say  that  the  appointment 
was  made  against  the  wishes  of  the  party  in  power,  and  expressly 
against  those  of  the  actual  President  of  the  United  States.  [Mr. 
Cambreleng  assented.]  Well,  sir,  this  man  was  hardly  warm  in 
office  before  what  had  been  foretold  occurred.  He  was  a  defaulter 
from  the  beginning,  but  his  defalcations  were,  at  first,  compara- 
tively inconsiderable,  and  such  as  might  have  escaped  attention, 
or  been  plausibly  accounted  for.  At  the  end  of  four  years,  defaul- 
ter as  he  was,  he  was  reappointed  to  office — the  gentleman  from 
Maryland  (Mr.  Thomas)  says,  so  much  against  the  wishes  of 
some  of  the  best  friends  of  the  Executive,  that  they  went  so  far 


34  1  OFFICIAL  DEFALCATIONS. 

as  to  use  their  influence  with  the  Senate  to  have  the  nomination 
rejected  there — but  of  that  more  hereafter.  After  this  second 
appointment,  he  still  observed,  at  first,  a  certain  degree  of  mode- 
ration, for  at  the  end  of  another  year  he  was  in  default  only 
$50,000  or  so,  (I  think) ;  but  now,  hardened  by  habit,  emboldened 
by  success,  counting  with  greater  confidence  upon  the  inveterate 
drowsiness  of  the  sentinels  of  the  Treasury,  whom  he  had  found 
so  long  ''mocking  their  charge  with  snores,"  he  plunged  desper- 
ately forward  in  his  career  of  fraud,  and,  in  the  course  of  the 
three  last  years,  under  the  eyes  of  this  very  Secretary  of  the 
Treasury,  and,  for  twelve  months  together,  during  which  the 
greater  part  of  the  whole  defalcation  occurred  -under  the  admin- 
istration of  the  very  President  who  denounced  him  from  tlir 
first  as  unworthy  of  any  confidence -achieved  a  peculation  so 
magnificent  as  to  place  him  by  the  side  of  the  great  historic 
plunderers  of  antiquity — the  devastators  of  subjugated  provinces. 
One  fact  just  brought  to  light  aggravates  still  more  the  monstrous 
characteristics  of  this  case.  It  appears  that  the  official  bond  of 
Swartwout,  given  on  his  second  appointment  in  1834,  was 
actually  not  approved  for  three  years  afterwards. 

Now,  sir,  upon  this  simple  state  of  the  case,  [  put  it  to  your 
candor,  I  appeal  to  the  common  sense  of  the  House,  does  the 
Secretary  of  the  Treasury  come  before  us,  as  he  ought  to  do, 
with  clean  hands?  Do  not  misunderstand  me,  sir.  I  do  not. 
charge  Mr.  Woodbury  with  corruption,  I  do  not  charge  him  with 
misprision  of  corruption  by  connivance  at  this  enormous  fraud. 
I  do  not  speak,  as  yet,  of  impeachment— although  I  beg  leave  to 
say  that  I  am  quite  clear  there  may  be  misdemeanors  in  office 
so  gross  as  to  call  for  the  interference  of  this  House  as  the  im- 
peaching power,  without  any  proof  of  corruption.  I  hold  it  to 
be  our  undoubted  right  to  remove  a  public  officer,  whom  the 
President  will  not  or  cannot  displace,  if  we  can  make  out  against 
him,  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  Senate,  evidence  of  gross  negli- 
gence, which  the  law  likens  to  fraud,  or  of  such  glaring  and 
notorious  incompetence,  (through  drunkenness,  for  instance,)  as 
makes  him  utterly  unfit  to  be  trusted  with  the  interests  of  a  great 
people.  The  sentence,  in  case  of  impeachment,  need  not  go 
further  than  a  removal  from  office.  But  of  this  by  the  way.  \ 
do  not,  however,  charge  the  Secretary  of  the  Treasury  even  with 
gross  negligence.  I  charge  him,  indeed,  with  nothing,  for  that 
is  not  my  object  here.  But  I  contend  that  he  stands  before  us 
self-accused.  I  affirm,  and  challenge  gentlemen  to  deny  it,  that 
he  has  made  out  a  prima  facie  case  against  himself — that  the 
burden  of  proof,  by  his  own  showing,  lies  upon  him ;  that  he 
has  a  presumption  to  repel ;  that  he  has  doubts  and  difficulties 
to  explain  away.  And  now  I  ask  the  friends  of  that  gentleman 
whether  they  think  they  are  doing — I  will  not  say  their  duty  to 


OFFICIAL  DEFALCATIONS.  345 

the  House  and  to  the  country,  but — justice  to  the  Secretary 
himself,  by  the  course  which  they  are  pursuing  here.  The  gen- 
tleman from  New-Hampshire,  (Mr.  Cushman,)  for  instance ;  did 
he  not  perceive  how  his  declaration,  the  other  day,  that  the  Secre- 
tary was  ready  to  justify  himself  whenever  the  House  would 
consent  to  give  him  a  committee  of  his  own  naming,  was  received 
by  the  House?  that  it  was  greeted  with  an  involuntary  burst  of 
merriment  from  all  sides,  as  if  the  gentleman  had  been  indulging 
in  a  joke  at  the  expense  of  his  friend? 

[Mr.  Cushman  explained.  His  objection  had  been  to  raising 
the  committee  by  ballot.  He  was  still  opposed  to  raising  the 
committee  unless  it  could  be  done  viva  voce  in  the  broad  light  of 
day,  &,c] 

Mr.  Legare.  Still,  it  appears  to  me,  with  all  possible  defer- 
ence, that  he  who  renders  his  friend  ridiculous,  by  whatever 
means  he  may  do  so,  is  not  doing  him  any  great  service. 

But,  sir,  is  it  fit,  is  it  decent,  that  a  man,  who  sits  where  so 
many  great  men  have  served  and  honored  the  country — the  suc- 
cessor of  Alexander  Hamilton  and  Alexander  Dallas — of  Mr. 
Crawford  and  Mr.  Gallatin — the  head  of  one  of  the  great  execu- 
tive Departments  of  this  Government— a  confidential  adviser  of 
the  President — armed  with  mighty  powers,  clothed  in  imposing 
authority,  surrounded  with  whatever  of  splendor  still  remains  to 
the  dignities  of  this  country — is  it  fit,  I  say,  that  a  gentleman, 
standing  where  Mr.  Woodbury  does,  with  appearances — whether 
by  his  fault  or  his  misfortune  is  wholly  immaterial — so  much 
against  him,  should  present  himself,  or  rather  suffer  his  friends 
here  to  present  him,  in  the  posture  of  a  culprit  at  the  Old  Bailey, 
challenging  jurors  without  cause,  picking  flaws  in  indictments, 
and  resorting  to  all  the  little  devices  of  a  mere  technical  defence. 
Should  he  not  rather  challenge  investigation — defy  it — allow  the 
House  to  choose  time,  place,  manner,  weapons — 

[Mr.  Cushman  here  said  that  he  had  informed  the  House  that 
the  Secretary  did  challenge  investigation.] 

Mr.  Legare.  Well,  then,  sir,  why  should  he  object  to  our  ap- 
pointing a  committee  according  to  our  own  rules?  What  is  it 
to  him  how  our  committee  is  appointed  ?  Does  it  lie  in  his  mouth 
(to  use  that  phrase)  to  say  that,  having  covered  himself  with  a 
cloud  of  suspicion,  it  shall  not  be  removed  unless  the  committee 
be  appointed  in  this  or  that  particular  way  ?  Is  it  not  manifestly 
due  to  his  honor,  no  less  than  to  the  interest  of  the  country,  that 
the  investigation  should  be  conducted  in  the  manner  best  calcu- 
lated to  satisfy  the  public,  and  make  them  acquiesce  in  its  results 
whatever  they  may  be.  And  now,  again  I  ask,  if  ever  occasion 
was  extraordinary — if  ever  there  was  an  occasion  that  called  for 
the  appointment  of  a  Committee  by  the  House  itself,  as  the  great 
vol.  i. — 44 


346  OFFICIAL  DEFALCATIONS. 

inquest  of  the  country,  on  the  principles  of  a  free,  impartial,  and 
rigid  scrutiny,  is  not  this  so? 

But  not  only  is  it  an  extraordinary  occasion,  for  the  reasons 
hitherto  given—  it  is  rendered  still  more  so  hy  the  very  peculiar 
juncture  at  which  the  inquiry  is  called  for.  We  are  fairly  ar- 
rived at  what  is  called  a  crisis  in  the  financial  affairs  of  this 
country.  The  public  mind  is  as  much  awakened,  perhaps,  as 
it  ever  has  been,  to  the  importance  of  the  great  question  of  the 
day.  I  have  always  thought  it  a  question  infinitely  too  grave 
and  too  fundamental,  as  well  as  too  full  of  difficulties  of  all  sorts 
to  be  made  matter  of  party  contention  and  management,  and 
that  it  was  really  an  object  worthy  of  all  our  attention  as  states- 
men, to  arrive  at  sound,  scientific  conclusions  in  regard  to  it.  For 
this  reason,  sir,  when  the  gentleman  from  New- York  (Mr.  Cam- 
breleng,)  omitted  to  state  the  grounds  on  which  he  called  upon 
us  to  institute  this  inquiry,  as  I  do  not  happen  to  be  very  san- 
guine about  the  results  promised  by  others,  I  employed  myself 
with  imagining  some  more  plausible  pretext  to  indulge  him  in 
his  wishes.  The  consideration  which  first  presented  itself  and 
most  weighed  with  me  was  precisely  this  :  Here  we  are  about 
to  pass  upon  a  system  in  which  the  safe  keeping  of  the  public 
money  is  one  of  the  most  important  elements  and  one  of  the 
most  debateable  points.  We  differ  most  widely  among  ourselves 
as  to  its  probable  effects  in  this  respect,  and  the  whole  country 
is,  and  has  been  for  nearly  two  years  past,  deeply  agitated  by  the 
same  doubts.  The  measure,  repeatedly  rejected  here,  is  again 
pressed  upon  us  by  the  executive  department  for  a  solemn  recon- 
sideration. Just  at  this  moment  a  case  occurs  which,  whatever 
any  of  us  may  think  of  its  peculiar  causes  and  circumstances, 
all  must  admit  to  have  an  immediate,  and,  perhaps,  most  impor- 
tant bearing  upon  this  engrossing  subject.  Now,  sir,  7,  for  one, 
want  to  see  the  precise  features  of  what  may  possibly  prove  a 
most  instructive  experiment  in  this  department  of  public  policy. 
At  any  rate,  it  is  very  desirable  that  it  be  surveyed  with  all  pos- 
sible impartiality  and  from  various  points  of  view.  It  will  not 
do  to  confide  the  examination  of  such  a  subject  to  a  committee 
composed  principally  of  minds  committed  to  foregone  conclusions 
or  laboring  under  strong  prepossessions  ;  at  least,  as  it  may  be 
difficult,  in  the  present  state  of  the  controversy,  to  avoid  this 
evil,  we  ought,  at  all  events,  to  correct  and  mitigate  it  as  much 
as  we  may,  by  an  equal  representation  in  it  of  the  three  classes 
of  opinions  that  prevail  in  this  House.  I  should  not  be  satisfied 
with  any  report  made  by  gentlemen  who  differ  with  me  in  their 
views,  whatever  might  be  their  integrity  or  abilities.  This  is  a 
matter  which  I  will  not  consent  to  look  at  through  another's 
prejudices. 


OFFICIAL   DEFALCATIONS,  347 

And  now,  sir,  I  ask  you,  what  indignity  I  am  offering  to  the 
Chair,  when  I  say  so  ?  And,  since  it  is  regarded  by  its  friends 
as  bound  and  determined  to  give  us  a  committee  of  partizans,  is 
it  not  reasonable  that  we  should  insist  upon  the  undoubted  right 
of  the  House  to  see  that,  on  a  subject  of  this  peculiar  character, 
all  the  parties  that  compose  it,  should  be  present  at  the  exami- 
nation, and  report  the  facts  according  to  their  respective  im- 
pressions ? 

I  submit,  then,  that  I  have  made  out  my  case  ;  that  I  have 
shown,  if  ever  a  committee  ought  to  be  appointed  by  the  House 
according  to  its  rules,  this  is  that  committee.  The  reasoning  is 
entirely  conclusive,  I  defy  the  gentleman  from  New- York  to  an- 
swer it.  He  is  driven  back  to  the  darkness  he  seems  to  love — 
darkness  of  inuendo — darkness  of  imputation— darkness  of  ar- 
gument. 

[Mr.  Cambreleng  was  surprised  that  the  gentleman  from  South- 
Carolina  should  ask  him  to  give  reasons  for  that  about  which  he 
(Mr.  C.)  felt  so  little  care.  He  had  stated  then,  as  he  did  now, 
that  the  mode  of  appointing  the  committee  was  a  matter  of  in- 
difference to  <him;  and  it  was  extraordinary  that,  after  having 
made  this  declaration,  he  should  be  asked  to  hunt  up  reasons 
why  the  Speaker  should  appoint  it.] 

Mr.  Legare.  What,  then,  did  the  gentleman  mean  by  "dark- 
ness ?"  Or,  if  he  meant  nothing,  why  not  honestly  say  so  at  first? 

Before  I  close  my  remarks,  it  is  necessary  that  I  should  advert 
to  what  fell  from  the  gentleman  from  Maryland,  (Mr.  Thomas). 
The  House  could  not  but  be  struck  with  the  fact,  to  which  I 
have  more  than  once  alluded,  that,  although  this  committee  was 
officially  asked  for  by  the  administration,  through  its  leader  upon 
this  floor,  no  reason  why  we  should  comply  with  so  extraordi- 
nary a  request  was  so  much  as  hinted,  until  a  late  hour  of  the 
second  day  of  debate  upon  the  subject.  Then  it  was  that,  for 
the  first  time,  this  important  hiatus  in  the  conduct  of  such  a 
cause  was  attempted  to  be  supplied  by  the  gentleman  from 
Maryland.  The  high  place  which  that  gentleman  occupies  in 
his  party  would  alone  entitle  his  opinions  and  reasonings  here  to 
the  greatest  consideration.  But  there  is  another  circumstance 
which  still  further  enhances  their  claims  upon  the  attention  of 
the  House.  The  gentleman  seems  to  me  any  thing  but  "lavish 
of  his  presence"  in  debate,  and  I  think  I  have  generally  observed 
that  it  is  only  where  his  friends  are  in  some  serious  difficulty — 
ubi  res  ad  triarios  rediit — that  he  thinks  himself  called  upon  to 
expose  himself  in  the  thickest  of  the  fight,  and,  dismounting  from 
his  horse,  like  a  great  captain  of  antiquity,  to  charge,  sword  in 
hand,  at  the  head  of  his  troops.  Accordingly,  his  appearance  in 
the  melee  on  this  occasion  awakened  in  me  the  liveliest  interest. 
I  was  curious  to  know  how  he  was  going  to  defend  what  ap- 


348  OFFICIAL  DEFALCATIONS. 

peared  to  me  the  untenable  position  of  his  party,  and  I  accord- 
ingly left  my  seat,  and  approached  so  near  to  him  as  not  to  lose 
any  part  of  an  argument  which  was  the  last  and  only  hope  of  an 
otherwise  derelict  cause.  If  any  thing  were  wanted  to  show 
how  bad  that  cause  was,  it  was  the  utter  failure  of  so  able  a  man 
in  that  argument.  It  amounted  scarcely  to  any  thing  in  itself, 
and  was,  besides,  perfectly  inconsequential  in  every  part  of  it,  as 
far  as  it  went.  The  whole  sum  and  substance  of  it  was,  that  the 
administration,  being  responsible  tor  the  recovery  of  the  money, 
or  for  catching  the  defaulter,*  had  a  right  to  control  the  committee 
to  be  appointed  for  that  purpose. 

[Mr.  Thomas  explained.  He  had  not  said  the  administration, 
he  had  said  the  friends  of  the  administration  on  this  floor.] 

Mr.  Legare.  I  never  heard  the  distinction  made  before,  and 
do  not  even  now  perceive  its  importance.  At  any  rate,  it  can 
have  no  sort  of  effect  on  the  argument,  as  I  shall  show. 

Now,  sir,  let  us  analyze  this  argument.  And,  in  the  first 
place,  it  is  obvious  to  object  that  it  is  wholly  inapplicable  to  the 
subject  before  the  House.  In  the  resolution  on  your  table  there 
is  not  one  word  relating  to  the  recovery  of  the  money.  We  are 
called  upon  to  inquire  into  the  causes  which  led  to  the  loss  of  it — 
a  very  interesting  inquiry,  no  doubt — with  a  view  to  our  future 
policy,  as  well  as  to  the  past  conduct  of  the  Treasury  Depart- 
ment :  but  why  it  should  result  in  restoring  what  has  been  lost, 
or  why  it  should  be  conducted  only  by  those  most  interested  in 
restoring  it,  or  what  it  has  to  do  with  restoring  it  at  all,  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  conceive. 

But,  if  the  recovery  of  this  money  is  the  only,  or  even  the 
principal  object,  why  trouble  us  with  this  investigation  ?  Why 
have  a  committee  of  this  House  to  do,  what,  after  all,  it  could 
not  possibly  do  well  ?  Where  are  all  the  ordinary  instruments 
of  executive  power — its  law  officers  of  various  classes  :  its  courts 
with  their  process  :  its  judges,  counsel,  sheriffs,  bailiffs?  Surely 
a  court  of  chancery,  with  its  bills  of  discovery  and  relief,  its 
searching  interrogatories  and  oaths  of  parties,  can  do  more  to  de- 
tect and  defeat  fraud  than  any  committee  of  this  House,  albeit 
authorized  to  send  for  persons  and  papers,  in  a  few  weeks  of  in- 
vestigation. It  does  appear  to  me  that  nothing  ever  was  more 
nugatory  than  this  whole  proceeding,  considered  in  the  light  in 
which  the  gentleman  seems  exclusively  to  view  it. 

Then,  sir,  as  to  the  argument  that,  because  the  friends  of  the 

*  As  to  Mr.  Swartwout  himself,  he  is,  of  course,  out  of  our  reach.  Like  the 
classic  plunderer  in  Juvenal's  lines — 

Damnatus  inani 
Judicio,  (quid  enim  salvis  infamia  nummis) 
Exul  ab  octava  Marius  bibit  et  fruitur  D!s 
Iratis — at  tu  victrix  provincia  ploras. 


OFFICIAL  DEFALCATIONS.  349 

administration  are  more  interested  in  the  recovery  of  the  money 
than  the  rest  of  us,  we  should  commit  the  management  of  this 
inquiry  to  them  ;  it  is,  in  the  first  place,  founded  upon  a  gratui- 
tous assumption,  and  is,  moreover,  a  most  illogical  conclusion, 
even  from  a  false  premise.  I  deny  that  any  party  in  this  House 
is  really  more  interested  than  another  in  restoring  so  considera- 
ble a  sum  to  the  common  treasury  of  the  country.  I  am  sure  it 
would  be  a  boon  for  which  both  Charleston  and  Pensacola  would 
be  most  grateful  to  you,  if  it  were  laid  out  in  those  places  upon 
the  establishments  we  were  speaking  of  a  few  days  ago.  But, 
even  conceding  what  is  thus  taken  for  granted,  the  reasoning  of 
the  gentleman  from  Maryland  is  surely  most  extraordinary. 
Says  the  gentleman,  the  friends  of  the  administration  in  this 
House  should  be  employed  in  recovering  the  money.  Why? 
Because  the  administration  lost  it.  This  House,  by  its  commit- 
tee, is  to  recover  what  was  lost  through  the  carelessness  or  un- 
skilfulness  of  the  head  of  the  Treasury  ;  and  that,  it  seems,  is  to 
exonerate  that  officer  from  every  imputation  of  neglect  of  duty ! 
Was  there  ever  a  stranger  confusion  of  ideas  ?  Why,  what  sort 
of  connection  is  there  between  the  recovery  of  the  money  by 
the  Legislature  and  the  loss  of  it  by  the  Executive ;  and  how 
arc  the  merits  of  our  committee  to  be  imputed,  by  this  most 
anomalous  relation  back,  to  him,  who,  for  the  purposes  of  this 
argument,  must  be  presumed  to  have  incurred  a  just  censure,  for 
a  most  culpable  remissness  or  incapacity  ?  And,  above  all,  what 
satisfaction  would  it  be  to  the  country,  justly  alarmed  at  pecula- 
tions and  abuses  so  unprecedented  and  enormous,  naturally  ex- 
pecting of  this  House  that  it  should  take  measures  at  once  to 
visit  with  its  vindictive  justice  those  who  have  been,  directly  or 
indirectly,  engaged  in  them,  and  to  prevent,  as  far  as  possible, 
the  recurrence  of  them  in  future — what  satisfaction  would  it  be 
to  the  American  people  to  hear  that,  having  recovered  their  pro- 
perty, we  had  agreed  to  stop  the  prosecution,  and  hush  up  the 
whole  matter  ?  And  is  this  the  only  argument  which  the  friends 
of  the  administration  have  to  urge  why  they  should  have  the 
control,  through  the  Speakers  appointment,  of  this  extraordinary 
inquiry  ?     Even  so,  sir. 

But  the  gentleman  from  Maryland,  (Mr.  Thomas,)  apologizing 
for  "the  pressure"  under  which  he  was  obliged  to  speak,  added  a 
few  observations  to  those  which  I  have  just  examined.  By  his 
first  argument  he  admitted  that  the  "friends  of  the  administra- 
tion" were  responsible  for  the  safe  keeping  of  the  money  ;  and 
it  was  because  they  were  so  responsible  that  he  thought  them 
entitled  to  a  majority  in  the  committee.  As  the  "friends  of  the 
administration,"  however,  could  only  be  responsible  through  the 
administration  itself,  to  which  the  custody  of  the  money  was  ex- 
clusively confided,  the  gentleman,  very  naturally,  went  into  an- 


350  OFFICIAL  DEFALCATIONS. 

other  argument,  to  show  that  the  Executive  was  not,  in  fact,  to  be 
blamed  for  the  offences  of  Swartwout.  How  these  two  positions 
are  to  be  reconciled,  or  whether  they  can  be  reconciled  at  all,  is 
no  business  of  mine ;  certain  it  is,  however,  that  the  gentleman 
from  Maryland  thought  it  perfectly  consistent  in  himself,  first  to 
claim  a  privilege  for  the  friends  of  the  administration  on  the 
ground  of  their  being  answerable  for  the  consequences  of  this 
embezzlement,  and  then  to  deny  that  any  blame  whatever  at- 
tached, or  could  attach,  to  the  administration  itself,  for  the  impu- 
nity with  which  these  peculations  were  carried  on  for  years  to- 
gether 7  And  why?  Because,  forsooth,  many  whigs  and  many 
conservatives  thought  the  man  innocent,  until  he  was  found  to 
be  guilty  :  and  it  could  even  be  proved,  by  credible  witnesses, 
that  he  had  presided  over  some  public  meetings  held  by  citizens 
of  New- York,  belonging  to  one  or  other  of  those  parties  !  Why, 
sir,  this  is  really  too  much.  A  public  officer,  repeatedly  appoint- 
ed to  one  of  the  most  important  trusts  in  the  country,  and  ac- 
quitting himself  of  its  duties,  as  the  public  were  led  to  believe, 
by  his  continuance  in  office,  with  perfect  fidelity,  is  treated  by 
the  community  in  which  he  lives  with  the  respect  due  to  his 
high  station  ;  and  this  makes  them  as  much  responsible  for  what 
he  does  as  the  Government,  whose  confidence  in  him  it  was  that 
enabled  him  to  deceive  that  community.  The  merchants  of 
New- York,  who  had  nothing  to  do  with  his  accounts,  who  had 
no  means  of  knowing  what  was  his  official  conduct,  who  took  it 
for  granted,  good  easy  men,  that  the  agents  of  the  people  here  at 
Washington,  when  they  told  them  all  was  well,  knew  what  they 
said  to  be  true,  as  they  were  bound  to  know  it,  believed  Swart- 
\vout  no  defaulter.  And,  therefore,  it  is  not  for  them,  nor  for  us, 
now  to  ask  those  very  agents  why  they  made  or  countenanced 
these  false  reports,  by  which  we  have  all  been  misled  so  much  to 
our  cost !  The  gentleman  went  on  to  adduce  other  proofs  of 
the  high  credit  which  Swartwout  enjoyed,  and  then,  suddenly 
taking  a  turn  in  his  argument,  stated,  by  way  of  exculpating  the 
administration,  that  many  of  its  friends  used  their  influence 
with  the  Senate,  when  the  second  appointment  of  this  man  was 
under  consideration  in  1834,  to  have  him  rejected.  The  present 
President  of  the  United  States  is  expressly  named  among  those 
who  endeavored  to  prevent  the  confirmation  of  this  unfortunate 
choice.  Sir,  I  wish  to  say  nothing  unnecessarily  unkind  of  that 
heroic  old  man,  now  retired  forever  from  the  stage  of  public  life. 
He  certainly  erred  in  making  this  nomination  ;  but  why  did  not 
his  friends  go  to  him  with  their  objections  to  it,  instead  of  whis- 
pering suspicions  into  the  ears  of  the  Senate  ?  The  difference 
between  the  power  that  appoints  and  the  power  that  confirms  or 
rejects,  is  that  the  action  of  the  former  is  perfectly  untrammelled, 
whereas  it  is  incumbent  upon  the  latter  to  show  some  reason  for 


OFFICIAL  DEFALCATIONS.  361 

its  dissent.  Had  the  Senate  rejected  Swartwout  upon  vague  ru- 
mors, who  doubts  but  their  conduct,  especially  at  that  particular 
juncture,  would  have  been  denounced  as  factious  and  arbitrary  ? 
That  the  friends  of  the  administration,  therefore,  endeavored  to 
prevent  the  confirming  of  a  nomination,  of  which  they  seem 
to  have  taken  no  measures  to  prevent  the  making,  no  more  ex- 
onerates them  from. all  responsibility  for  it  than  it  proves  that 
the  Senate  were  as  much  to  blame  for  it  as  the  Executive.  But, 
if  this  whole  argument  fails  to  prove  what  the  gentleman  desires 
to  make  out,  there  is  at  least  one  purpose  which  it  does  very  ef- 
fectually answer.  It  shows  that  every  possible  circumstance 
combined  to  point  Swartwout  out  to  his  official  superiors  as  an 
object  of  most  vigilant  suspicion;  it  shows  conclusively  that 
they  cannot  plead  surprise  or  ignorance ;  it  still  further  inflames 
all  the  presumptions  arising  out  of  the  other  circumstances  of  the 
case,  and  justifies  this  House,  triumphantly,  in  its  visible  deter- 
mination to  give  to  this  whole  subject  a  most  severe  and  search- 
ing examination,  through  a  committee  of  its  own  choosing. 

One  word,  sir,  as  to  the  proposal  to  vote  viva  voce.  I  under- 
stand gentlemen  to  insist  upon  this  deviation  from  the  express 
rules  of  the  House,  on  grounds  most  offensive  to  its  dignity. 
They  treat  us  as  if,  instead  of  an  assembly  of  gentlemen,  repre- 
sentatives of  a  great  nation,  we  were  a  gang  of  crouching  slaves, 
urged  to  the  performance  of  our  duties  only  by  the  lash,  and 
skulking,  whenever  we  find  an  opportunity,  from  the  eye  of  our 
masters.  Sir,  there  was  a  time  when  such  insinuations,  now 
become  so  familiar  to  us  as  to  be  mere  words  of  course,  would 
have  kindled  a  flame  of  generous  indignation  in  the  bosoms  of 
parties  in  this  House.  That  day,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  seems  to  be 
past  forever,  and  I  suppose  the  proudest  of  us  must  submit,  with 
what  grace  we  may,  to  our  destiny.  Some  of  us,  at  least,  have 
nothing  to  fear — the  gentleman  from  New- York,  (Mr.  Cambre- 
leng,)  for  instance,  and  myself. 

"Duncan  is  in  his  grave; 
After  life's  fitful  fever,  he  sleeps  well." 

lean  feel,  personally,  no  interest  at  all  in  the  matter :  but, 
having  no  experience  in  the  vote  viva  voce,  I  fear  it  would  be 
found  inconvenient  in  such  an  election  as  this.  However,  if  we 
must  comply  with  the  condition  of  publicity  on  the  grounds 
upon  which  it  is  exacted — if  we  must  submit  to  such  humiliating 
terms,  let  every  member  write  his  name  upon  the  ballot  he  gives. 
Would  not  that  answer  the  purpose  1 

Before  I  take  my  seat,  sir,  I  cannot  refuse  myself  the  privilege 
of  saying  a  few  words  in  reference  to  the  observations  that  fell 
from  my  colleague,  (Mr.  Pickens,)  who  happens  now  to  be  near 


352  OFFICIAL  DEFALCATIONS. 

me.  Sir,  I  listened  to  him  with  an  interest  which  1  am  unable 
to  express;  and,  when  he  avowed  his  belief  that  the  honour  of 
the  country  called  for  this  enquiry,  and  his  readiness  to  go  into 
it  in  the  manner  best  fitted  to  accomplish  its  objects,  1  felt  my 
bosom  awakened  as  with  the  sound  of  a  trumpet.  I  heard  once 
more  the  voice  of  South-Carolina  as  she  was  of  yore.  I  rejoiced 
with  a  patriotic  cry — I  exulted  with  an  honest  haughtiness  at 
the  thought  that  she  was  restored  to  her  old  and  her  true  place 
here.  For,  sir,  without  meaning  to  intimate  in  the  most  distant 
manner  any  thing  offensive  or  unkind  to  my  colleague,  he  will 
permit  me  to  confess  that  I  had  looked  with  a  painfully  anxious 
interest  to  the  course  which  he  and  his  friends  were  going  to 
pursue  in  this  matter — not  that  I  distrusted  their  honor,  and 
integrity,  but  I  did  not  know  how  far  the  fatal  sophistry  of  party 
had'  triumphed  over  their  naturally  clear  heads  and  elevated 
characters — that  sophistry  which  is  rooting  itself  so  deeply  in 
our  political  practice,  and  perverting  so  fearfully  the  opinions  of 
the  wisest  and  best  among  us,  as  to  threaten  nothing  less  than 
an  entire  revolution  in  the  genius  and  character  of  our  institu- 
tions. Sir,  my  colleague  has  spoken  without  reserve  on  this 
subject — he  scruples  not  to  declare  that  there  has  been  foul  cor- 
ruption in  the  conduct  of  our  affairs.  I  do  not  go  so  far — prob- 
ably because  I  know  less  of  these  things  than  he  does.  Bui  I 
do  say  that  these  strange  portents  and  prodigies  of  fraud — these 
spectral  terrors  of  official  profligacy,  almost  unheard  of  in  our 
previous  history,  but  which  have  so  often  of  late  "visited  the 
glimpses  of  the  moon,"  make  me  fear  that  "something  is  rotten 
in  the  state  of  Denmark."  It  is  time,  sir,  that  we  should  all  be 
roused  up ;  and  most  heartily  do  I  felicitate  the  country  on  the 
prospect  that  the  South,  at  this  important  juncture,  will  be  brought 
back  to  her  proper  position  in  our  federal  politics.  That  position 
is  necessarily  defensive  and  conservative.  We  have  nothing  to 
desire  or  to  hope  from  innovation  or  abuse  of  any  kind.  Our 
only  salvation  is  in  the  constitution  as  it  was  formed  by  our 
fathers,  honestly  carried  out  in  all  its  principles,  and  in  its  true 
spirit.  The  sceptre  is  departed  from  us.  The  axes  and  fasces, 
consulships  and  dictatorships,  are  not  for  us  None  of  us,  it  is 
probable,  will  ever  more  lead  the  pomp  of  the  triumph  up  the 
steep  of  this  Capitol.  But  we  have  still  our  power  and  our 
mission,  and  if  we  execute  them  with  courage  and  constancy, 
we  shall  entitle  ourselves  to  the  gratitude  of  the  country  and  of 
posterity.  We  have  the  Tribunitian  veto  to  restrain  Power. 
We  have  the  Censorial  authority  to  rebuke  and  to  chastise  Corrup- 
tion. Standing,  as  we  ought,  aloof  from  the  perverse  influences 
of  ambition,  it  should  be  our  aim,  as  it  is  undoubtedly  within 
our  power,  to  maintain  that  high  public  morality  which  is  worth 


OFFICIAL  DEFALCATIONS.  353 

more  than  all  constitutions,  and  without  which  all  constitutions, 
be  they  what  they  may,  are  a  mere  mockery.  No  language  can 
characterize  the  baseness  and  folly  of  the  Southern  man  who 
would  sacrifice  the  independence,  the  elevation,  and  the  control- 
ling advantages  of  such  a  position  to  the  slavish  discipline  and 
low  ends  of  faction.  I  repeat  it.  I  rejoice,  from  the  bottom  of 
my  heart,  in  the  hope  that  my  colleague  and  his  friends  are  still 
ready  to  lay  bare  their  right  arms  in  defence  of  the  good  cause ; 
and  never,  let  me  assure  them,  never  was  a  prouder  post  assigned 
to  brave  men  in  a  mighty  battle  than  will  be  theirs,  if  they  but 
will  it  so. 


vol.  i. — 45 


ARBITRAMENT  OF  NATIONAL  DISPUTES. 


June  13,  1838. — Read,  and  laid  upon  the  table. 

Mr.  Legarc",  from  the  Committee  on  Foreign  Affairs,  made  the  following 

REPORT : 

The  Committee  on  Foreign  Affairs,  to  whom  was  referred  the  memorial  of  the 
New- York  Peace  Society,  and  other  individuals  friendly  to  the  peace  cause, 
report  as  follows : 

The  prayer  of  the  memorialists  is  two-fold.  They  desire,  in 
the  first  place,  that  our  differences  with  Mexico  should  be  referred 
to  the  arbitration  of  a  third  Power.  The  House  is  already  in- 
formed that,  to  this  extent,  their  petition  has  been  answered  and 
fulfilled  by  the  Executive — our  claims  upon  that  Government 
having,  at  the  instance  of  the  latter,  been  submitted  to  an  umpire 
of  its  own  choosing.  So  far,  therefore,  as  the  object  of  the 
memorialists  was  to  bring  about  this  practical  result  in  a  public 
interest  of  great  importance  and  pressing  exigency,  it  has  been 
accomplished,  no  doubt,  to  their  entire  satisfaction. 

But  they  do  not  stop  here.  They  proceed  to  recommend  to 
Congress  that  it  "adopt  the  principle  of  reference  to  a  third 
Power  of  such  international  disputes  as  cannot  be  amicably 
adjusted  by  the  parties  themselves,  as  an  invariable  rule  of  action, 
instead  of  an  occasional  one."  And  they  further  pray  that,  "in 
pursuance  of  this  principle,  a  proposal  be  sent  forth  by  this 
Government  to  those  of  other  nations,  that  they  would  unite 
with  it  in  the  establishment  of  a  great  international  board  of 
arbitration,  or  a  congress  of  nations,  to  which  to  refer  interna- 
tional disputes ;  and  also  for  the  purpose  of  digesting  and  pre- 
paring a  regular  code  of  international  law,  obligatory  on  such 
nations  as  may  afterwards  adopt  it."  They  think  that  this 
board  of  arbitrators  should  be  composed  of  delegates  from  various 
nations,  and  that  to  this  board  should  be  confided  the  forming  a 
code  of  international  law. 

It  is  proper  to  observe,  however,  that  they  do  not  propose  that 
this  code  "shall  be  binding  upon  any  nations  which  may  not 
willingly  adopt  it,  after  its  enactment  by  the  tribunal :"  nor  do 
they  propose  that  that  tribunal  be  clothed  with  power  to  enforce 
its  decisions,  but  that  it  shall  rely  for  its  efficiency  solely  on  the 


ARBITREMENT  OF  NATIONAL  DISPUTES.,  355 

impartiality  and  correctness  of  those  decisions,  and  the  honor 
and  justice  of  the  parties  concerned. 

The  petitioners  conclude  by  expressing  a  desire  that  this  coun- 
try should  not  only  combine  with  others  in  what  they  character- 
ize as  "the  great  and  glorious  scheme  under  consideration,"  but 
that  they  "should  lead  the  way,  by  sending  forth  the  proposal 
for  a  congress  of  nations"  to  the  various  Governments  of  the 
civilized  world. 

The  Committee  have  been  earnestly  pressed  to  take  this  latter 
prayer  of  the  petitioners  into  consideration,  and  to  make  a  direct, 
full,  and  solemn  report  both  upon  its  principles  and  its  practica- 
bility. It  is  in  compliance  with  a  desire  thus  entertained  in 
many  respectable  quarters,  that  they  have  the  honor  of  submitting 
to  the  House  the  following  reflections  : 

The  Committee  need  scarcely  say  that  they  fully  appreciate 
and  sympathize  with  the  philanthropic  feelings  and  purposes 
expressed  in  the  memorial.  They  agree  that  the  union  of  all 
nations,  in  a  state  of  peace,  under  the  restraints  and  the  protection 
of  law,  is  the  ideal  perfection  of  civil  society.  Not,  however, 
that  they  would  be  understood  as  affirming  that  war  has  always, 
in  the  history  of  mankind,  been  an  unmixed  or  uncompensated 
evil.  They  do  not  think  so.  To  say  nothing  of  the  heroic 
virtues  which  are  formed  under  its  stern  discipline,  and  exercised 
by  its  trials  and  perils,  war  has,  in  fact,  been  often,  both  in  an- 
cient and  in  modern  times,  a  mighty  and  even  a  necessary  in- 
strument of  civilization.  It  is  sufficient,  in  this  connection,  barely 
to  mention  the  names  of  Alexander  and  Charlemagne.  But  the 
committee  also  think  that  those  times  are  gone  by.  Far  other 
agents  of  amelioration  and  progress  are  at  work  now — agents 
infinitely  more  powerful  in  their  quiet  and  silent,  but  incessant 
operation,  and  whose  efficacy  would  be  greatly  impaired  by  war, 
did  they  not  tend,  more  than  any  thing  else,  to  supersede  and 
put  an  end  to  it.  The  age  is  reproached  with  being  a  mechanical 
and  ignoble  one — with  its  sordid  love  of  gain,  its  plodding  devo- 
tion to  business,  and  its  preference  of  physical  comforts  and 
personal  accommodation,  to  objects  that  elevate  the  imagination 
and  refine  the  taste  in  art  and  literature.  This  reproach  is,  no 
doubt,  to  a  certain  degree,  well  founded ;  but  we  must  not  forget 
that  we  do  not  forego  (as  far  as  we  do)  the  advantages  referred 
to,  without  a  real,  and,  in  the  eye  of  sober  reason,  an  abundantly 
adequate  compensation.  It  is  true  that  the  most  peculiar  charac- 
teristic of  the  civilization  of  these  times  is  a  demand,  becoming 
universal  among  all  classes  of  society,  for  the  various  physical 
comforts,  of  which  commerce  is  the  inexhaustible  source.  But 
it  is  this  very  peculiarity  that  opens  an  entirely  new  prospect  to 
the  human  race,  and  makes  the  present  moment  an  epoch  in  its 
history.     This  commercial  or  economical  civilization,  if  we  may 


356  ARBITREMENT  OP  NATIONAL  DISPUTES. 

call  it  so,  is  reconstructing  society  on  the  broadest  and  most 
solid  basis.  It  is  essentially  democratic  in  its  character  and 
tendencies.  It  pursues  steadily,  and  achieves,  with  more  and 
more  success  every  day,  the  greatest  good  of  the  greatest  number. 
It  is  every  where  increasing  population,  and  adding  immensely 
to  the  fund  that  employs  and  rewards  labor.  In  spite  of  many 
disturbing  causes,  which  will  disappear  in  the  progress  of  things, 
it  is  elevating  the  poor  in  the  social  scale,  providing  for  them 
better  food,  raiment,  and  lodging,  as  well  as  means  01  a  suitable 
moral  and  intellectual  education.  It  is  bringing  the  most  distant 
families  of  mankind,  as  it  were,  into  contact  with  one  another, 
and  effacing  all  the  sharp  and  salient  peculiarities  of  national 
character  that  now  estrange  them  from  each  other.  It  is  reveal- 
ing the  great  cardinal  truth  of  free  trade,  so  pregnant  with  moral 
as  well  as  political  results — that  "self-love  and  social  are  the 
same ;"  that  every  country  is  interested  in  the  prosperity  of  every 
other ;  that  production  can  never  be  excessive,  because,  where 
exchanges  are  entrammelled,  it  produces  its  own  consumption  ; 
that  nothing,  in  short,  can  be  more  shallow  in  science,  as  well 
as  sordid  and  narrow  in  spirit,  than  a  restrictive  policy  founded 
upon  the  idea  that  a  nation  can  only  enrich  itself  at  the  expense 
of  its  neighbours,  or  has  any  thing  to  gain  in  the  long  run,  from 
their  losses.  When  we  reflect  that,  during  the  whole  of  the  last 
century,  and  for  a  considerable  period  before,  the  far  greater  part 
of  the  blood  and  treasure  so  prodigally  lavished  in  almost  inces- 
sant war,  was  a  sacrifice,  directly  or  indirectly,  to  fallacious 
views  of  commercial  monopoly  and  colonial  dominion  considered 
as  instrumental  to  that  monopoly,  we  shall  fully  appreciate  the 
importance  of  this  simple  truth,  once  become,  as  it  will  infallibly 
become,  a  settled  maxim  of  national  policy.  With  notions  of 
economy  and  personal  comfort,  such  as  are  made  the  reproach 
of  the  times,  mankind  are  not  likely  much  longer  to  acquiesce 
in  the  wanton  and  profligate  waste  of  their  resources,  of  the 
means  of  so  much  private  and  public  prosperity,  in  contests 
which — to  say  nothing  of  the  unspeakable  evils  that  accompany 
them — cannot  possibly  result  in  any  adequate  advantages  to 
either  party.  Their  reluctance  to  take  up  arms  will  be  increased 
by  a  regard  not  only  to  their  own  interests  directly,  but  to  that 
of  their  adversaries,  which  is  in  effect  the  same  thing ;  to  make 
war  upon  their  customers  in  trade  will  be  felt  to  be  a  mischiev- 
ous and  suicidal  insanity.  This  motive  is,  perhaps,  not  a 
romantic  one,  but  it  is  not  the  less  powerful  for  addressing  itself 
less  to  sentiment  and  the  imagination  than  to  the  habitual  self- 
ishness of  human  nature.  It  is  thus  that  physical  causes  are 
producing  moral  effects  of  the  greatest  importance,  and  that 
political  economy  becomes  the  most  effective  auxiliary  of  Chris- 
tianity.    We  already  see,  in  a  manner  not  to  be  mistaken,  the 


ARBITREMENT  OF  NATIONAL  DISPUTES.  357 

influence  of  such  ideas  in  the  contemporary  history  of  Europe, 
although  they  are  just  beginning  to  take  hold  of  the  public  mind, 
and  there  are  so  many  obstacles  to  their  progress  in  the  actual 
state  of  things  there.  It  is  scarcely  possible  to  imagine  a  greater 
revolution  of  opinion,  in  the  same  time,  than  has  occurred  since 
the  peace  of  1815.  A  single  generation  is  not  yet  passed  away 
since  the  downfall  of  Napoleon,  and  his  military  despotism  begins 
already  to  strike  the  minds  of  men  as  a  barbarous  anomaly  in 
such  an  age.  Since  the  last  French  revolution,  causes  of  con- 
troversy, without  number,  sufficient  to  have  produced  desolating 
wars  at  any  previous  epoch,  have  arisen  and  passed  away  without 
occasioning  one,  except  the  disputed  succession  in  Spain — an 
exception  that  proves  the  rule.  Much  is  due,  no  doubt,  to  the 
personal  character  and  enlightened  views  of  those  whose  position 
enabled  them  to  control  that  great  event ;  but,  let  it  be  remem- 
bered that  that  character  and  those  views  were  themselves  the 
work  of  the  age  they  would  reflect  so  faithfully. 

The  committee  will  add  that  there  is  another  point  of  view  in 
which  every  thing  that  tends  to  preserve  the  peace  of  nations  will, 
ere  long,  come  to  be  universally  regarded  as  peculiarly  interest- 
ing to  mankind  :  they  allude  to  its  effect  in  promoting  the  great 
cause  of  limited  or  constitutional  government.  War  has  ever 
been  the  most  fruitful  source  of  arbitrary  power.  They  are,  in- 
deed, to  a  certain  extent,  inseparable.  A  military  is,  necessarily 
in  spirit  and  effect,  a  despotic,  and  must  generally  be  a  monarchi- 
cal organization.  Not  only  so,  but  the  evil  tends  to  propagate 
and  to  perpetuate  itself.  One  great  power  arming  for  conquest 
compels  all  neighboring  powers  to  arm  for  defence ;  and  it  is  not 
a  vain  or  fanciful  saying,  that  laws  are  silent  amidst  the  din  of 
arms.  The  instinct  of  self-preservation  is  at  least  as  strong  in  na- 
tions as  in  individuals.  They  ever  have  been,  and  ever  will  be, 
ready  to  sacrifice,  without  scruple,  their  dearest  rights  and  liber- 
ties in  order  to  maintain  their  national  independence.  The  yoke 
of  the  foreigner  is  so  galling  and  degrading  that  there  is  no  other 
which  mankind  are  not  willing  to  bear  in  order  to  avoid  it. 
"The  salvation  of  the  people,"  (salus  populi,)  at  whatever  cost 
or  risk,  must  and  will  be  the  supreme  law,  under  every  form  of 
government.  The  dictators  of  republican  Rome,  the  terrible 
despotism  of  the  executive  committees  of  the  French  convention, 
are  only  instances  of  a  universal  law  of  society  and  of  human 
nature  under  such  circumstances.  Hence  the  impossibility,  for 
the  present  at  least,  of  maintaining  such  institutions  as  ours  on 
the  continent  of  Europe. 

Mirabeau  imbodied  the  whole  philosophy  of  the  subject  in  his 
well-known  apophthegm  that  France  was  "geographically  mon- 
archical." The  federal  relations  of  Europe  (for  Europe  is,  in  fact, 
a  confederacy)  admit,  in  strict  theory,  of  no  arbiter  but  the  sword 


358  ARBITREMENT  OP  NATIONAL  DISPUTES. 

and  the  independence  of  most  of  the  powers  has  been  preserved — 
as  far  as  it  has  been  preserved  at  all — at  the  cost  of  popular  lib- 
erty. That  happy  compromise,  by  which  the  wisdom  of  our  fa- 
thers— availing  itself,  it  is  true,  of  such  circumstances  as  have 
never  occurred  elsewhere — has  reconciled,  on  this  continent,  the 
sovereignty  of  the  States  with  the  rights  of  individuals  under  a 
peaceful,  judicial  administration  of  the  law,  is  still,  and  is  likely 
long  to  continue,  a  desideratum  there.  But  the  spirit  of  the  age 
is  gradually  becoming  more  favorable  to  such  institutions,  just 
in  proportion  as  it  is  becoming  less  disposed  to  war.  Peace  is 
the  hope  of  liberty — peace,  consecrated  as  the  standing,  funda- 
mental policy  of  the  world.  Such  a  state  of  opinion,  or  such  a 
condition  of  things  as  will  dispense  with  large  armies  and  mili- 
tary discipline,  with  a  power,  in  effect  dictatorial,  in  the  execu- 
tive department  of  governments,  and  with  the  ambition,  the 
glory,  and  the  fatal  popularity  and  influence  of  successful  gene- 
rals ;  such  a  perpetual  and  perfect  intercourse,  commercial  and 
otherwise,  among  men  as  will  mitigate  extremely,  if  not  extin- 
guish, all  mutual  jealousy  and  hostility  between  nations  des- 
tined, under  the  blessed  influences  of  Christian  civilization,  to 
form  but  one  great  family,  and  will  thus  deprive  politicians  of 
the  occasion  of  turning  the  wildest  phrensy  and  worst  calamities 
of  mankind  into  a  means  of  sanctifying  the  abuses  of  govern- 
ment— will  inevitably  lead,  in  this  age,  to  the  general  establish- 
ment of  representative  institutions.  All  the  tendencies  of  com- 
merce and  industry  are  to  social  equality ;  peace  will  add  to  that 
equality  rational  liberty  under  a  government  of  laws;  and  both 
will  tend  to  perpetuate,  by  a  mutual  reaction,  the  causes  that 
produced  them. 

Concurring  thus  fully  in  the  benevolent  objects  of  the  memo- 
rialists, and  believing  that  there  is  a  visible  tendency  in  the  spirit 
and  institutions  of  the  age  towards  the  practical  accomplishment 
of  it  at  some  future  period,  the  committee  regret  to  have  to  say 
that  they  have  not  the  same  confidence  in  the  means  recom- 
mended in  the  petition.  They  are  of  opinion  that  reforms  so 
fundamental  can  only  be  brought  about  by  the  gradual  progress 
of  civilization,  and  in  consequence  of  a  real  change  in  the  con- 
dition of  society.  They  must  follow  events,  and  conform  to 
them ;  they  cannot,  by  any  contrivance  of  man,  be  made  to  pre- 
cede and  control  them.  AH  attempts,  in  such  matters,  except  by 
bloody  revolutions  or  conquests,  to  anticipate  the  natural  course 
of  things,  are  entirely  unavailing. 

The  scheme  of  the  memorialists  is,  as  we  have  seen,  to  refer 
all  international  disputes  to  a  congress  of  deputies,  and  to  au- 
thorize that  congress  to  digest  a  code  of  public  law  that  shall  be 
binding  only  on  such  powers  as  should  voluntarily  adopt  it. 

The  first  objection  to  this  plan  lies  upon  the  surface,  and  is 


ARBITRAMENT  OF  NATIONAL  DISPUTES.  359 

entirely  fatal.  The  unanimous  consent  of  nations,  in  the  actual 
state  of  the  world,  to  such  a  proposal,  is — as  any  one  will  he  con- 
vinced who  reflects  a  moment  upon  their  political  relations,  or 
will  but  cast  his  eye  over  a  map  of  Europe — entirely  out  of  the 
question ;  and  the  refusal  of  a  single  great  power  to  acquiesce  in 
it  would  alone  render  it  abortive.  This  is  not  matter  of  specu- 
lation ;  it  is  what  has  actually  occurred  in  one  of  the  most  im- 
portant departments  of  international  law.  The  House  is  aware 
that  Great-Britain  maintains  doctrines  in  reference  to  the  mari- 
time rights  of  belligerents,  which  were  formally  disavowed  and 
denounced,  during  the  war  of  our  Revolution,  by  almost  all  the 
leading  powers  of  Europe,  banded  together  to  resist  the  enforce- 
ment of  them  in  practice.  On  some  of  the  points  involved  in 
the  declaration  of  the  armed  neutrality,  our  own  prize  courts 
have  followed,  perhaps  too  implicitly,  those  of  England  ;  but  on 
others — for  example,  the  rule,  as  it  is  called,  of  '56 — they  have 
adhered  to  the  law,  as  explained  by  that  famous  league.  And 
yet,  against  the  concurring  opinions  of  all  the  rest  of  the  civi- 
lized world,  and  in  spite  of  the  bloody  wars  to  which  the  exer- 
cise of  her  pretended  rights  have  led,  and  may  yet  lead,  Great- 
Britain  maintains  her  principles,  irreconcileable  as  they  are  with 
the  practice  of  nations  in  analogous  cases  on  land,  and  indeed 
with  all  modern  ideas  of  civilized  warfare ;  and  even  interposes 
her  overruling  influence  to  prevent  any  of  the  minor  states  of 
Europe  from  adopting,  for  their  own  convenience,  provisions  in- 
consistent with  those  principles,  in  treaties  professedly  confined 
to  the  parties  making  them.  What  declaration  of  a  congress 
constituted  as  the  one  in  question  would  be,  can  be  expected  to 
have,  by  the  mere  weight  of  its  authority,  more  effect  on  the 
opinions  and  the  conduct  of  mankind,  than  that  of  such  a  for- 
midable coalition  as  the  armed  neutrality? 

Had  England  not  engrossed  the  empire  of  the  seas  for  about 
a  century  past,  it  is  scarcely  possible  to  doubt  but  that  the  law  of 
maritime  captures  would  have  been  made  to  correspond  more 
strictly  with  the  analogies  of  war  on  land,  and  private  property 
been  held  as  sacred  in  the  one  case  as  in  the  other.  It  is  worthy 
of  notice  that,  at  the  congress  of  Utrecht,  before  her  ascendant 
was  established,  that  power  was  an  advocate  of  the  rights  of 
neutrals.  She  is  now  their  worst  enemy ;  and  her  resistance  pre- 
sents an  obstacle,  for  the  present  at  least,  quite  insuperable  to 
any  reform  in  this  particular  ;  just  as  the  refusal  of  either  France, 
or  Austria,  or  Russia,  &c,  would  be  fatal  to  the  project  of  the 
memorialists.  Such  is  the  preponderance  of  these  powers  in  the 
balance  of  Europe,  so  peculiar  and  so  various  their  interests,  so 
many  changes  will  be  necessary  in  most  of  them  to  bring  their 
institutions  into  harmony  with  the  levelling  spirit  of  the  age,  and 
so  to  make  it  all  safe  for  them  to  submit  to  any  arbiter  but  force, 


360  ARBITRAMENT  OF  NATIONAL  DISPUTES. 

that  it  were  chimerical  to  expect  their  co-operation  in  any  plan 
to  dispense  with  it  altogether.  When  Henry  IV.  conceived  his 
project  of  perpetual  peace,  he  did  not  look  for  the  countenance 
or  consent  of  the  then  predominant  house  of  Austria.  On  the 
contrary,  his  first  object  was  to  overcome  the  resistance  which 
he  expected  from  that  quarter.  His  grand  scheme  of  pacifica- 
tion was  founded  on  as  vast  a  one  of  preparatory  war  and 
revolution.  That  house  was  to  be  reduced  ;  its  power  broken  ; 
its  territories  partitioned.  This  was  evidently  an  indispensable 
prerequisite,  and  his  was  too  practical  a  mind  not  to  perceive  it. 
The  committee  will  add  here,  what  will  be  found  to  illustrate 
another  proposition  advanced  in  this  report,  that  his  project  as- 
sumed a  still  more  important  alteration  in  the  interests  and  rela- 
tions of  mankind.  It  reconstituted  Europe  on  an  entirely  new 
basis.  He  would  have  built  up  a  balance  of  power  on  some- 
thing like  an  equality  of  territory.  He  would  have  dealt  with 
that  continent  as  an  ancient  lawgiver — a  Moses  or  Lycurgus — 
would  have  dealt  with  the  soil  of  a  particular  country,  distribu- 
ting it  on  agrarian  principles,  in  order  that  his  new  constitution 
of  society  should  have  something  solid  to  rest  upon  in  the  na- 
ture of  things.  In  this  respect,  too,  as  the  committee  will  pre- 
sently endeavor  to  show,  he  evinced  a  practical  wisdom  far  above 
such  a  dream  as  that  of  a  revolution  in  the  whole  conduct  of 
nations,  to  be  effected  by  a  mere  declaration  of  abstract  princi- 
ciples  on  paper  or  parchment. 

And  this  leads  to  the  second  objection,  which  is  that,  even  if 
the  consent  of  all  the  great  powers  (supposing  their  present  re- 
lations towards  one  another  to  remain  precisely  as  they  are) 
could  be  obtained  to  such  an  experiment,  there  seems  to  your 
committee  to  be  no  reason  for  anticipating  any  good  result  from 
either  of  the  expedients  recommended  by  the  memorialists. 

First :  with  regard  to  a  code  of  international  law.  Nothing, 
in  the  opinion  of  your  committee,  is  more  fallacious  than  the 
idea  that  mere  positive  legislation,  when  not  preceded  or  accom- 
panied by  conquest  or  revolution,  has  ever  had  a  very  important 
agency  in  human  affairs.  This  proposition,  they  are  aware,  may 
seem  paradoxical  at  a  period  when  so  much  is  said  about  writ- 
ten codes  and  constitutions  ;  but  it  is  fully  established  by  expe- 
rience, even  were  it  not,  as  it  is,  sufficiently  clear  a  priori.  The 
most  renowned  systems  of  legislation  have  been  the  slow  work 
of  time,  modified  in  some  degree,  and  improved  by  an  enlight- 
ened, experimental  wisdom,  taking  advantage  of  circumstances, 
rather  than  aspiring  to  control  them.  Even  when  reduced  to 
the  form  of  codes,  they  have  done  a  little  more,  when  they  have 
done  any  good  at  all.  than  record  with  precision  and  clothe  in 
solemn  form  the  opinions,  usages,  and  manners  of  a  people,  with 
such  limited  modifications  of  them  as  have  been  just  alluded  to. 


ARBITREMENT  OP  NATIONAL  DISPUTES.  361 

The  committee  will  not  trouble  the  House  with  the  elaborate 
development  to  which  the  importance  of  this  great  and  funda- 
mental truth  would,  on  a  proper  occasion,  so  fully  entitle  it ;  nor 
by  citing  examples  which  it  would  be  easy  to  multiply,  to  con- 
firm and  illustrate  it.  But  there  is  one  of  these  too  often  men- 
tioned to  be  overlooked,  too  striking  to  be  slighted,  and  yet  in 
general  so  little  understood  as  to  require  a  statement  of  the  pre- 
cise truth  in  regard  to  it ;  they  mean  the  Justinian  collection, 
which  is  habitually  cited  as  an  instance  of  written  law,  properly 
so  called,  that  is,  of  law  arbitrarily  prescribed  by  the  supreme 
power  in  the  state;  yet  every  civilian  knows  that  the  great  bulk 
and  body  of  the  corpus  juris  civilis  is  strictly  common  law,  the 
law,  namely,  of  opinion,  of  interpretation,  and  of  practice.  The 
Pandects  are,  from  beginning  to  end,  nothing  but  a  repository  of 
the  wisdom  of  the  great  jurisconsults  of  a  better  age,  delivered 
to  the  public  in  the  shape  of  treatises,  institutes,  and  maxims,  or 
in  that  of  consultations  or  opinions  solving  questions  of  practi- 
cal jurisprudence. 

But  if  this  be  true  even  of  the  law  of  property  and  contract, 
{meum  and  ftrnm,)  it  is  obviously  still  more  applicable  to  public 
law,  in  both  its  great  branches,  the  constitutional  and  the  inter- 
national, but  especially  the  latter.  As  to  constitutions,  the  expe- 
rience of  the  last  half  century  supersedes  the  necessity  of  saying 
a  word  about  their  total  inefficacy  where  a  people  is  not  ripe  for 
them  ;  or,  in  other  words,  where  they  are  arbitrarily  made  for  a 
people.  Such  an  instrument  is  a  mere  deception,  not  worth  the 
parchment  on  which  it  is  engrossed.  None  but  the  most  vision- 
ary minds  can  now  have  any  faith  in  the  mysteries — once  held 
in  such  reverence — of  written  forms.  Our  own  government 
has  been  absurdly  cited  as  an  example  of  the  kind.  It  is,  as  the 
House  is  aware,  a  remarkable  instance  of  the  very  reverse.  Its 
two  prominent,  characteristics,  its  two  vital  principles  as  a  Fede- 
ral republic — the  popular  representation  in  one  branch  of  the 
Legislature,  the  equality  of  voices  in  the  other — are  founded  on 
facts,  of  which  the  existence  is  quite  independent  of  all  consti- 
tutions, and  which  may  be  considered  as  primordial  in  this  coun- 
try. The  States  were  as  free,  even  as  republican,  before  the  Re- 
volution, as  they  are  now  ;  they  were,  at  the  same  time,  inde- 
pendent communities,  connected,  indeed,  by  many  ties,  especially 
by  geographical  position  and  by  their  common  relation  to  the 
mother  country,  but  still  distinct  and  independent  of  each  other. 
It  might  have  been  predicted  with  confidence  that  no  government 
could  be  formed  which  should  not  reconcile,  as  far  as  possible, 
both  these  facts.  Washington,  for  example,  as  is  very  apparent 
from  his  correspondence,  as  well  as  from  his  conduct,  had,  with 
that  sound  good  sense,  and  large,  comprehensive,  and  practical 
wisdom  so  characteristic  of  him,  a  clear  perception  of  this  truth. 
vol.  i. — 46 


362  ARBITREMENT  OF  NATIONAL  DISPUTES. 

The  form  of  the  legislative  risscmbly,  composed  of  two  Houses, 
was  the  established  one  of  the  country — a  part  of  its  common 
law  and  hereditary  liberties,  and  those  of  the  whole  English 
race :  but  how  were  those  Houses  to  be  constituted  ?  Here  was 
a  new  question,  and  the  only  new  question  ;  and  yet  the  solu- 
tion of  it,  in  the  very  manner  in  which  it  was  solved,  was  inevi- 
table. No  one  can  imagine  that  on  any  merely  theoretical  prin- 
ciples the  State  of  Virginia  could  have  been  brought  then,  or  the 
State  of  New- York  could  be  brought  now,  for  the  first  time,  to 
consent  that  her  immense  numerical  superiority  should  be  neu- 
tralized in  the  equal  vote  of  the  Senate.  So  far,  however,  from 
being  the  strange  anomaly  which  a  foreigner  might  imagine  it, 
it  is  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world  ;  so  far  from  being  an 
arbitrary  institution,  it  is,  so  to  express  it,  a  corollary  flowing 
out  of  our  whole  history  ;  instead  of  being  the  creature  of  the 
constitution,  it  was  its  necessary,  indispensable  condition.  Nor 
is  it  merely  because  it  is  recognized  in  that  constitution,  and 
clothed  by  it  with  a  peculiar  sanctity,  that  it  maintains  its  place 
there  ;  it  rests  on  more  solid  ground — on  public  opinion.  The 
spirit  which  produced  it  is  still  in  all  its  pristine  vigor;  the  facjt 
of  which  it  was  the  expression  still  exists  ;  the  States,  one  and 
all  of  them,  have  a  deep  interest  in  maintaining  their  indepen- 
dence as  States,  and  would  unite  in  resisting  a  change  which 
would  arm  the  strong  against  the  weak,  to  the  common  ruin. 
The  Senate  is  thus  fully  a  counterpoise  to  the  other  House ;  be- 
cause, like  that  House  it  is  the  sign  of  a  living  power — the  rep- 
resentative of  an  actual  interest :  because,  like  it,  it  is  founded 
upon  a  state  of  opinion,  and  of  things  which  cannot  be  changed 
without  war — to  maintain  which  men  would  be  willing  to  lay 
down  their  lives,  and  to  sacrifice  even  the  government  itself.  It 
is  this  that  gives  to  the  Senate  of  the  United  States  more  weight 
and  efficiency  than  belong  to  any  similar  body — any  House  of 
Lords,  or  Chamber  of  Peers — in  the  world.  But  this  unques- 
tionable truth  at  the  same  time  sufficiently  evinces  that  of  all 
chimeras  it  is  the  wildest  to  expect  to  see  similar  institutions  es- 
tablished, to  any  practical  good  purpose,  in  countries  where  there 
are  no  facts  that  answer  to  them. 

But  if  codes  of  municipal  and  constitutional  law,  to  be  effec- 
tive, must  mainly  form  themselves  in  the  silent  progress  of 
events,  we  find  in  international  law  a  body  of  jurisprudence 
which  is,  and  of  necessity  must  be,  exclusively  the  growth  of 
opinion.  There  is  here  no  legislative  power,  no  common  arbiter, 
nothing  but  an  occasional  convention  or  established  usage  to  give 
sanction  to  its  precepts.  And  yet  whoever,  fresh  from  the  histo- 
ry of  mankind  in  more  remote  ages,  shall  open  the  great  work 
of  Grotius,  will  be  struck  with  the  immense  progress  of  society, 
revealed  in  every  page  of  it.     This  justly  celebrated,  and  still, 


ARBITREMENT  OP  NATIONAL  DISPUTES.  363 

in  its  kind,  unrivalled  collection  of  the  maxims  of  international 
justice,  standing,  as  it  does,  on  the  very  threshold  of  what  is 
properly  called  modern  history,  ought  to  be  considered,  perhaps, 
as  the  grandest  monument  which  human  hands  have  yet  erected 
to  the  influence  of  Christianity.  Before  the  sixteenth  century, 
the  conventional  law  of  nations  hardly  deserves  notice  ;  treaties 
are  but  few  and  meagre  :  but  Europe  was  a  family  of  nations 
bound  together  in  the  unity  of  a  common  faith  and  the  law  of 
enlightened  reason  and  of  good  will  among  men,  proclaimed 
from  the  pulpit  and  at  the  altar,  established  itself,  gradually  and 
by  tacit  consent,  in  the  practice  of  mankind.  It  is  thus  that 
most  of  the  usages  which  give  such  a  hideous  and  barbarous 
aspect  to  war,  even  in  the  most  civilized  periods  of  antiquity, 
have  been  effaced.  Certainly  some  additional  reforms  might  be 
made  in  international  law,  as,  for  example,  in  the  matter  of  ma- 
ritime captures,  to  which  allusion  has  already  been  had.  These 
reforms,  to  the  honor  of  our  country  be  it  said,  have  been  inces- 
santly aimed  at  and  perseveringly  pursued,  in  her  negotiations, 
from  the  very  first  into  which  she  entered  as  an  independent  na- 
tion down  to  the  present  time.  Your  committee  trust  that  no 
administration  will  ever  lose  sight  of  them  ;  they  are  confident 
of  ultimate  success ;  they  have  unlimited  faith  in  the  truth,  jus- 
tice, and  wisdom  of  the  maxims  involved  in  those  reforms ;  but 
it  is  only  from  the  gradual  progress  of  social  improvement  that 
such  a  consummation  is  to  be  hoped  for.  It  is  not  a  code  or  col- 
lection of  these  maxims  that  is  wanted  :  it  is  the  power  to  en- 
force or  the  spirit  to  practice  them,  which  no  code  can  give. 

With  regard  to  the  proposed  international  board  of  arbitration, 
the  objections  of  the  committee  are  still  stronger.  A  code,  di- 
gested and  promulged  as  the  memorialists  desire,  would  do  no 
good,  but  it  could  scarcely  do  any  harm.  Not  so  with  a  tribunal 
of  any  sort.  The  probability,  to  be  sure,  is,  that  the  decrees  of 
such  a  one  as  is  here  contemplated,  would  be  merely  nugatory  ; 
but,  if  it  had  any  influence  at  all,  it  might,  in  the  actual  relations 
of  the  great  powers,  easily  be  perverted  to  the  worst  ends.  It 
might  be  made  especially  to  impede  the  progress  of  the  very 
improvements  it  would  have  been  instituted  to  promote,  and,  in- 
stead  of  disarming  the  mighty,  become  in.  their  hands  an  engine 
of  usurpation  and  tyranny.  He  is  but  superficially  versed  in 
the  history  of  nations  who  does  not  know  that  some  of  the 
greatest  revolutions  in  society  have  been  brought  about  through 
the  instrumentality  of  judicial  tribunals.  The  committee  will 
cite  but  one  example :  they  refer  to  the  gradual  subversion  of 
the  feudal  confederacy  of  France,  by  the  crown  exercising,  as  it 
did,  a  paramount  influence  over  a  nominal  court  of  peers.  The 
authority  of  law,  once  established  and  acknowledged  among 
men,  is  second  only  to  that  of  religion.     Judges  do  much  more 


364  ARBITREMENT  OF  NATIONAL  DISPUTES. 

than  pronounce  and  enforce  judgment  in  particular  cases  ;  they 
shape  the  opinions  of  mankind  in  analogous  ones ;  and  those 
opinions,  as  we  have  seen,  are  the  basis  of  government  and  le- 
gislation. 

It  will  immediately  occur  to  the  House  that  the  only  republic 
in  the  world  should  be  veiy  careful  not  to  commit  its  destinies, 
in  any  serious  degree,  to  institutions  which  might  and  would  be 
controlled  by  influences  hostile  to  its  principles  ;  and  the  more 
especially,  as  the  natural  tendency  of  things  is  more  favorable  to 
those  principles  than  any  policy  shaped  or  controlled  by  the  ex- 
isting governments  of  Europe  can  possibly  be  expected  to  prove. 
In  the  nature  of  things,  every  organ,  however  constituted,  of 
such  governments,  must  speak  the  language  of  what  is  called 
"resistance"  to  the  spirit  of  the  age ;  and  if  any  thing  could  en- 
able them  to  resist  that  spirit,  it  would  be  a  permanent  congress 
of  Laybach  or  Verona,  laying  down  the  law  of  war  and  peace 
for  all  nations.  This  was,  indeed,  the  very  scheme  of  the  holy 
alliance  to  which  this  country  was  formally  invited  to  accede. 

The  example  of  the  Amphictyonic  Council  of  Greece,  which 
lias  been  cited  with  confidence  by  the  petitioners,  is,  in  the  opin- 
ion of  the  committee,  as  unfavorable  to  their  purpose  as  any  that 
could  be  selected  from  the  records  of  the  past.  Without  going 
into  a  critical  examination  of  its  history,  for  which  this  is  not  a 
suitable  occasion,  it  is  sufficient  to  refer  to  indisputable  general 
results,  to  what  every  one  who  will  cast  his  eye,  however,  care- 
lessly, over  the  annals  of  those  commonwealths  will  at  once 
perceive — that  it  had  no  effect  whatever  in  healing  their  fatal 
dissensions ;  that  so  long  as  there  was  any  thing  like  a  balance 
of  power  among  the  principal  states,  they  continued  to  mnke  war 
upon  each  other,  without  the  least  regard  to  the  imaginary  juris- 
diction of  that  assembly  ;  that,  although  by  its  constitution,  the 
twelve  peoples  composing  it  had  each  an  equal  voice  in  it,  what- 
ever might  be  their  inequality  of  weight  and  importance,  yet  its 
decisions  were  continually  and  openly  swayed  by  the  influence 
of  the  power  or  powers  in  the  ascendant  for  the  time  being ;  and 
finally,  that  it  was  by  availing  himself  of  his  absolute  control 
over  it,  and  by  taking  advantage  of  a  favorable  juncture  in  af- 
fairs, brought  about  by  its  policy,  that  Philip  of  Macedon  found 
a  plausible  pretext,  and  a  show  of  legitimate  authority,  to  sanc- 
tify the  machinations  which  he  had  been  long  contriving,  and 
the  war  which  he  ultimately  waged  with  success  against  the  li- 
berties of  Greece. 

Every  other  mere  confederation,  both  in  ancient  and  modern 
times,  except  under  circumstances  so  peculiar  as  to  make  them 
unfit  to  be  considered  as  precedents,  has  been  attended  with  the 
same  results.  Either  the  leading  members  of  them,  at  the  head 
of  standing,  systematic  parties,  have  been  at  perpetual  war  with 


ARBITRAMENT  OF  NATIONAL  DISPUTES.  365 

each  other,  or  the  overruling  ascendant  of  some  one  of  them  has 
enabled  it  to  invade  the  rights  of  all  the  rest,  in  every  form  of 
violence  and  artifice.  The  late  German  empire,  for  example, 
affords  us  instances  of  both  these  tendencies.  Some  of  the  long- 
est and  most  desolating  wars  that  have  scourged  Europe  have 
grown  out  of  the  conflicting  interests  of  the  members  of  that 
league  of  peace,  and  had  for  their  avowed  object  the  adjustment 
of  those  interests  according  to  the  true  theory  of  its  public  law. 
This  was  as  much  the  case  after  as  before  the  treaty  of  West- 
phalia, although  one  capital  object  of  that  memorable  negotiation 
was  to  reform  the  constitution  or  the  administration  of  the  Impe- 
rial Chamber  and  the  Aulic  Council — in  which  jurisdiction  in 
federal  and  feudal  causes  had  been  vested,  without  any  effect, 
however,  in  deciding  them  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  weaker  par- 
ty. Neither  ought  it  to  be  forgotten  that  by  that  treaty  a  major- 
ity of  suffrages  in  the  diet  was  no  longer  to  give  the  law  in  any 
matters  that  related  to  religion,  or  in  which  the  two  great  parties 
as  such,  should  vote  differently,  or,  in  general,  in  any  case, 
wherein  all  the  states  could  not  be  considered  as  forming  a  sin- 
gle consolidated  nation.  In  all  such  cases  the  questions  submit- 
ted to  them  were  to  be  treated  as  those  arising  between  foreign 
nations,  and  to  be  arranged  by  compromise,  with  no  appeal  but 
to  the  sword.  So  difficult  is  it  to  accomplish  what  the  memo- 
rialists propose — the  peaceful  decision  of  controversies  between 
states  whose  interests  are  materially  different — that  even  where 
tribunals  have  been  instituted  for  that  purpose,  the  abuses  to 
which  they  have  been  made  to  lend  their  authority  have  seldom 
failed,  in  the  end,  to  aggravate  and  multiply  the  very  evils  they 
were  intended  to  prevent.  Experience  shows,  that  of  all  wars, 
the  most  obstinate  and  terrible  are  those  which  grow  out  of  such 
abuses.  They  partake  of  the  nature  of  revolution  and  civil  war, 
the  color  of  authority  on  the  one  side,  the  sense  of  injustice  on 
the  other,  inflame  the  usual  bitterness  of  hostility  ;  and  battles 
are  more  sanguinary  and  victory  less  merciful  where  the  contest 
is  waged  by  parties  standing  towards  each  other  in  the  supposed 
relation  of  rebel  and  tyrant.  Such  institutions,  therefore,  unless 
where  the  circumstances  of  a  country  are  very  peculiar,  have 
inevitably  one  of  two  effects  :  they  either  strengthen  the  hands 
of  the  oppressor,  or  they  lead  to  dreadful  and  desolating  wars  to 
overthrow  him  ;  sometimes,  as  in  the  case  of  the  Germanic  em- 
pire and  the  house  of  Austria,  in  the  seventeenth  century,  to 
both. 

Upon  the  whole,  your  committee  are  of  opinion  that  time  is 
the  best  reformer  in  such  things,  and  that  any  attempt  to  antici- 
pate the  natural  progress  of  events,  by  institutions  arbitrarily 
adopted,  would  either  be  vain  or  something  worse  than  vain. 
They  have  endeavored  to  show  that  the  cause  of  peace  is  visibly 


366  ARBITREMENT  OF  NATIONAL  DISPUTES. 

gaining  ground ;  that  mankind  are  already  become,  and  will 
daily  become  more  and  more  disposed  to  sacrifice  their  comforts 
and  their  business  to  the  ambition  of  Governments ;  nay,  that 
Governments  themselves,  partaking  of  the  spirit  of  the  times, 
or  dreading  its  effects,  avoid,  as  much  as  possible,  those  ruinous 
contests  by  which  nations  are  rendered  discontented,  and  rulers 
more  dependent  on  them,  just  when  sufFering  and  poverty  most 
dispose  them  to  revolt.  Instead  of  congresses  to  put  an  end  to 
war,  generally  on  the  foot  of  the  status  quo  aute  helium,  there 
are  congresses  to  prevent  a  rupture,  and  piles  of  protocols  attest 
that  power,  as  was  said  of  the  Spartans  after  a  memorable  defeat, 
lias  lost  much  of  its  insolent  and  peremptory  brevity  of  speech. 
The  truth  is  that  every  war,  hereafter,  will,  by  the  social  disor- 
ders that  are  likely  to  accompany  or  to  follow  such  an  event, 
throw  additional  obstacles  in  the  way  of  future  ones.  The 
sword  will  thus  prove  the  best  guaranty  of  peace. 

Your  Committee,  therefore,  do  not  think  the  establishment  of 
a  permanent  international  tribunal,  under  the  present  circum- 
stances of  the  world,  at  all  desirable ;  but  they  heartily  concur 
with  the  memorialists  in  recommending  a  reference  to  a  third 
power  of  all  such  controversies  as  can  safely  be  confided  to  any 
tribunal  unknown  to  the  constitution  of  our  own  country.  Such 
a  practice  will  be  followed  by  other  powers,  already  inclined, 
as  we  have  seen,  to  avoid  war,  and  will  soon  grow  up  into  the 
customary  law  of  civilized  nations.  They  conclude,  therefore, 
by  recommending  to  the  memorialists  to  persevere  in  exerting 
whatever  influence  they  may  possess  over  public  opinion,  to 
dispose  it  habitually  to  the  accommodation  of  national  differences 
without  bloodshed  ;  and  to  the  House  the  adoption  of  the  follow- 
ing resolution : 

Resolved,  That  the  committee  be  discharged  from  the  further 
consideration  of  the  subject  referred  to  them. 


CONSTITUTIONAL  HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


1.  The  Historical  Antiquities  of  the  Greeks,  with  reference  to  their  political  in- 

stitutions. By  William  Wachsmuth,  Professor  of  History  in  the  Universi- 
ty of  Leipzig.  Translated  from  the  German,  by  Edmund  Woolrych,  Esq, 
Oxford.     1837.     D.  A.  Talboys. 

2.  A  Manual  of  the  Political  Antiquities  of  Greece,  historically  considered ;  from 

the  German  of  Charles  Frederick  Hermann,  Professor  of  the  University 
of  Heidelberg.     Oxford.     1836.     D.  A.  Talboys. 

The  remarks  which  we  had  occasion  to  make  in  a  recent  pa- 
per,* on  the  great  superiority,  over  all  others,  of  the  German 
philologists  of  the  present  day,  especially  in  matters  of  histori- 
cal criticism,  are  most  strikingly  exemplified  in  the  two  works 
at  the  head  of  this  article.  We  take  it  upon  us  to  assure  such  of 
our  readers  as  have  a  taste  for  this  department  of  study,  that 
they  will  be  amply  repaid  for  any  pains  they  may  be  put  to  in 
possessing  themselves  of  their  contents.  The  translation  of 
them  into  English  is  but  one  more  proof  of  the  homage  now 
universally  done  to  those  great  masters  of  an  erudition  almost 
without  bounds,  informed  and  elevated  by  the  spirit  of  a  philo- 
sophy every  way  worthy  of  it.  These  are  acquisitions  to  our 
language  that  deserve,  in  point  of  usefulness,  to  be  placed  by 
the  side  of  the  versions  of  Bockh's  "Public  Economy  of  Athens," 
and  of  Muller's  "Dorians,"  both  of  which  have  been  given  to  the 
English  world  within  the  last  ten  or  twelve  years.  The  works 
under  review  are,  indeed,  a  necessary  supplement  to  those  admi- 
rable disquisitions,  and  can  be  studied  with  perfect  advantage 
only  in  connection  with  them.  We  do  not  think  we  hazard 
much  in  saying,  that  whoever  is  not  thoroughly  familiar  with 
Bockh's  masterly  view  (so  far  as  it  goes)  of  the  principles  of 
Athenian  government  and  administration,  has  yet  to  learn  his 
elements  as  a  student  of  history  in  one  of  its  most  interesting 
branches.  It  is  a  work  deserving,  in  our  opinion,  to  be  adopted 
as  a  text-book  in  our  public  schools  and  colleges,  instead  of  those 
handed  down  from  an  age  far  less  accurately  informed  in  such 

*  On  the  Origin,  History,  and  Influence  of  Roman  Legislation.  New-York 
Review,  No.  10. 


368  CONSTITUTIONAL  HISTORY  OP  GREECE. 

tilings  than  the  present.  Muller's  Dorians,  though  entitled  to 
high  praise,  is  not,  certainly,  a  monument  of  such  patient  and 
profound  research,  nor  so  full  of  new  matter  upon  an  old  subject 
as  the  masterpiece  just  mentioned  of  his  learned  master.  But 
those  two  works,  combined  with  the  "Historical  Antiquities"  of 
Professor  Wachsmuth,  and  the  invaluable  manual  of  Mr.  Her- 
mann, will  be  found,  by  a  philosophic  reader,  to  throw  more 
light  upon  the  genius,  constitutions,  and  history  of  the  two  ru- 
ling Greek  races,  than  all  that  has  ever  been  written  about  them 
in  the  English  language,  from  the  invention  of  the  art  of  print- 
ing up  to  the  present  moment.  Nor  is  it  only  that  they  give  us 
more,  but  that  they  give  us  better  light  upon  these  subjects— it 
is  not  merely  that  we  are  enabled  to  see  farther  into  them,  but 
that  Ave  are  enabled  to  see  more  clearly  than  we  ever  did  before. 
Objects  hitherto  surrounded  with  a  false  glare,  or  distorted  by  a 
troubled  medium,  are  now  exhibited  in  their  natural  shape  and 
color,  not  to  puzzle  the  curious  as  anomalies  and  non-descripts, 
but  to  instruct  our  reason,  and  to  guide  our  conduct,  by  con- 
firming the  experience  of  statesmen,  and  completing  the  induc- 
tions of  philosophers.  Whatever,  for  example,  may  be  in  some 
respects  the  merit  of  Barthelemy,  they  whose  ideas  of  Greek 
history  and  government  have  been  formed  upon  the  views  pre- 
sented in  the  "Travels  of  Anacharsis,"'  have  much  to  i/wlearn, 
before  they  can  begin  to  profit  by  the  lessons  of  better  teachers, 
and  perhaps  the  first  step  towards  real  improvements  in  such  stu- 
dies, would  be  the  purging  of  our  libraries  with  the  salutary 
sternness  of  the  curate  and  master  Nicholas. 

The  two  volumes,  of  which  a  translation  is  now  offered  to  the 
public,  form  (we  are  told  in  the  translator's  preface)  the  first  part 
of  Professor  Wachsmuth's  treatise  on  Grecian  Antiquities,  of 
which  we  are  promised  the  second  in  two  additional  volumes  as 
soon  as  the  translation  is  completed.  This  work  has,  it  seems, 
already  attained  to  the  dignity  of  a  classic  in  Germany.  Profes- 
sor Hermann,  in  his  preface,  speaks  of  it  in  that  light,  and  thus 
explains  the  relation  which  his  own  labors  bear  to  it: 

"Hence  naturally  follows  the  relation  this  attempt  bears  to  the  great 
classical  work  on  the  same  subject,  the  "Hellenic  Antiquities"  of  Wachs- 
muth. The  present  treatise  so  far  entirely  agrees  with  that  work,  in  the 
main  design  of  combining,  in  one  regularly  connected  series,  all  the  results 
of  previous  antiquarian  research,  thought  it  would  be  presumptuous  to  in- 
stitute any  further  comparison  between  the  two  works.  11'  considered 
merely  as  a  clue  through  those  researches,  this  work  may  escape  the 
charge  oi"  being  superfluous,  but  must  also,  in  that  case,  disclaim  the  merit 
of  the  original  disquisitions  and  reflections  by  which  the  above  mentioned 
highly  gifted  and  deeply  learned  inquirer  has  rendered  his  work  so  pecu- 
liarly valuable,  and  of  the  high  finish  he  has  also  imparted  to  its  details. 
Only  a  few  points  have  been  treated  more  at  length  than  by  Wachsmuth, 
the  author's  object  having,  in  general,  been  to  furnish  an  introduction  to 
that  author's  elaborate  work.     The  careful  examiner,  however,  will  not 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ATHENS.  369 

fail  to  observe  that  he  is  no  where  dependent  upon  Wachsmuth,  and  that 
his  materials  and  manner  of  treating  them  are  derived  from  a  diligent  stu- 
dy of  the  original ;  still  his  thanks  are  due  to  those  who  have  gone  before 
him,  without  whose  previous  labors  an  undertaking  like  the  present  would 
have  been  naturally  impossible.  The  author's  object  has  been  two-fold  : 
to  give  the  philological  public  a  comprehensive  survey  of  the  political  in- 
stitutions and  internal  history  of  the  leading  nations  of  ancient  Greece,  so 
far  as  existing  antiquarian  remains  and  the  most  approved  modern  inves- 
tigations have  rendered  our  knowledge  of  them  certain ;  and,  at  the  same 
time,  to  supply  the  want  of  a  satisfactory  abstract  of  a  study  so  generally 
interesting  to  the  scientific  spirit  of  the  age." — pp.  vii.,  viii. 

He  then  proceeds  to  speak  more  particularly  of  his  plan.  It 
is  to  frame  a  compendium  or  text-book  of  the  science,  compre- 
hending, at  once,  all  the  results  which  have  been  obtained  in 
what  he  well  describes  as  the  "gigantic  progress  it  has  made 
within  the  last  twenty  or  thirty  years,"  and  the  leading  authori- 
ties that  support  or  illustrate  them.  The  work,  accordingly, 
consists  of  three  separate  parts — the  text — the  authorities — and 
the  bibliographical  information  contained  in  the  notes.  He  goes 
on  to  say,  that 

"He  has  endeavored  so  to  frame  the  text,  as  the  heart  and  kernel  of  the 
subject,  that  it  may  form  of  itself  a  connected  whole,  and  be  read  at  plea- 
sure, without  the  notes;  whether  the  reader,  etc.  He  hopes  that  the  labor 
he  has  bestowed  on  the  attainmnet  of  clearness  and  pregnant  brevity  will 
not  pass  entirely  unnoticed  ;  though  he  is  conscious  of  having  rarely  satis- 
fied himself  in  this  particular.  However  this  may  be,  he  has  treated  the 
whole  subject  in  a  compendious  manner,  and  has  himself  throughout  re- 
garded the  text,  and  wishes  it  to  be  regarded  and  judged  of  by  others,  as 
the  principal  part  to  which  the  notes  are  merely  supplemental  .... 
From  the  absurd  affectation  of  making  a  display  of  extensive  reading,  he 
is  as  i"ree,  as  from  the  anxiety  to  quote  nothing  unless  from  actual  perusal 
and  will  confidently  leave  the  discerning  critic  to  determine  how  much  he 
has  read  and  to  what  purpose.  Had  Wachsmuth  decidedly  followed  up 
from  the  first  such  a  plan  of  reference  as  he  appears  to  have  conceived  in 
the  course  of  his  work,  the  author  would  perhaps  have  modestly  kept  back 
his  mite  ;  though  he  believes  that  the  correct  bibliographical  information 
this  work  contains,  may  of  itself  prove  serviceable  to  many.  For  its  gene- 
ral accuracy  he  thinks  he  may  vouch,  as  well  as  for  that  of  the  quotations 
as  far  as  it  is  possible  in  a  work  of  such  endless  labor.  He  might  indeed 
have  spared  himself  a  part  of  this  labor  by  curtailing  the  extracts,  but  it 
may  be  doubted  whether  this  would  have  been  to  the  advantage  of  a  ma- 
jority of  his  readers.  For  the  introduction  of  confirmatory  passages  from 
the  original  texts,  he  reckons  on  the  thanks  of  all  who,  feeling  with  himself 
the  necessity  of  actual  perusal,  together  with  personal  and  connected  ex- 
amination of  the  sources  of  information,  cannot  obtain  access  to  the  most 
important  of  them." — pp.  ix.  x. 

This  is,  so  far  as  regards  Professor  Hermann  himself,  all  very 
proper  and  all  very  true.  We  happen,  by  having  repeatedly 
within  a  few  years  past  travelled  over  the  same  ground,  to  have 
placed  ourselves  in  a  situation  to  pronounce  with  some  confi- 
dence upon  his  diligence  and  discrimination,  in  the  search  after 
the  original  authorities  on  which  he  has  had  occasion  to  rely. 
vol.  i.— 47 


370  CONSTITUTIONAL  HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 

His  inquiries  have  been  thorough,  and  his  examination  of  the 
texts  is  as  critical,  as  his  application  of  them  to  the  elucidation 
of  the  various  points  of  his  subject  is,  almost  without  exception, 
apposite  and  satisfactory.  To  a  scholar,  who  may  not  have  ac- 
cess to  a  very  good  library,  this  manual  will  be  above  all  price 
for  that  reason  alone;  although,  as  these  quotations  are  none  of 
them  translated,  the  use  of  them  is,  of  course,  denied  to  the 
mere  general  reader.  For  him,  however,  the  author  has  prepared 
in  his  text  a  body  of  doctrine  and  history,  so  clearly  and  syste- 
matically, and  yet  so  succinctly  brought  out,  that  he  will  find 
himself  compensated  in  it  for  the  privation  just  mentioned,  by  a 
most  ample  and  valuable  store  of  materials  and  suggestions  for 
original  speculation.  That  this  work  is  not  a  mere  abridgment 
of  YVachsmuth's,  nor,  indeed,  in  any  very  material  degree  in- 
debted to  or  dependent  upon  it,  will  be  obvious  to  whoever  will 
be  at  the  pains  of  comparing  them.  To  say  nothing  of  the  notes, 
which  are  a  clear  accession  to  the  facilities  hitherto  furnished  to 
scholars  on  this  interesting  subject,  his  text  breathes  a  free  and 
original  spirit,  and  Mr.  Hermann,  if  he  really  thinks  as  humbly 
of  himself  and  his  work  as  he  professes  to  do,  will  be  surprised 
to  hear  our  deliberate  declaration,  that  were  we  asked  whether 
of  the  two  we  would  more  willingly  have  dispensed  with,  wc 
should  hesitate  long  before  we  named  his.  The  use  he  has 
made  of  Aristotle's  Politics,  so  indispensable  to  any  thing  like  a 
comprehensive  insight  into  these  matters,  or  a  correct  judgment 
upon  them,  would  alone  have  recommended  him  to  our  most  fa- 
vorable consideration. 

Not  that  we  mean,  or  would  wish  to  disparage  the  great  work 
of  Professor  Wachsmuth,  for  which  it  is  surely  an  honor  above 
the  reach  of  detraction  that  it  has  obtained  so  high  a  place  in 
the  opinions  of  the  learned  in  Germany.  Yet  we  shall  be  per- 
mitted to  say,  in  all  candor,  that,  for  our  humble  selves,  we  have 
not  been  so  much  struck  with  the  absolute  novelty  of  the  views 
presented  in  this  first  part  of  the  "Historical  Antiquities,"  as  by 
their  general  correctness,  the  learning  equally  exact  and  exten- 
sive with  which  they  are  enforced  and  illustrated,  and,  above  all, 
the  lucid  and  instructive  order  in  which  they  are  arranged. 
That  the  author  is  one  who  thinks  for  himself,  that  his  research 
is  indefatigable,  and  his  criticism  acute  and  distinguishing  to  a 
fault,  cannot  be  disputed  ;  but  we  think  we  discover  in  him  an 
overweening  ambition  of  originality,  even  in  matters  where  it 
can  be  displayed  only  in  paradox  or  error,*  and  that  he  is  not 

*  We  think  an  instance  of  this  straining  after  novelty  is  to  be  found  in  the  stress 
lie  lays  on  certain  figurative  usee  of  the  word  sdvocr,  v.  I.  p.  344.  While  on 
the  subject  of  words,  the  sense  ascribed  to  sraipst'a  (v.  II.  p.  563,  Append.)  of 
an  "anti-democratic"  combination  is  of  course  meant  to  be  confined  to  the  popular 
use  of  that  day  at  Athens.    Else  it  would  not  bear  examination.    It  means  a  po- 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ATHENS.  371 

sufficiently  sensible  of  the  obligations  he  owes  his  predecessors, 
by  whose  labors  he  has  not  the  less  profited  because  he  occasion- 
ally disputes  their  conclusions,  and  always  refuses  to  bow  to 
their  authority.*  Yet  there  are  several  points  on  which,  if  he 
has  not  been  the  first  to  utter,  he  has  at  least  expressed,  with 
greater  distinctness  and  precision  than  any  other  writer,  what 
seem  to  us  important  truths.  Under  this  head  we  may  cite,  in 
general,  his  manner  of  treating  the  subject  of  the  Attic  tribes 
and  other  divisions  of  the  people,  and  his  clear  perception  of  the 
influence  of  the  aristocracy  of  race  in  all  the  earlier  periods  of 
their  history — though  even  he  has  not  seen,  or  at  least  said,  all 
that  must  be  adverted  to  and  weighed,  before  the  example  of 
Greek  democracy  can  be  used  to  any  practical  purpose,  either  by 
the  enemies  or  the  partizans  of  that  sort  of  polity.  So,  his  charac- 
ter of  Aristophanes  deserves  to  be  mentioned,  as  the  nearest  ap- 
proximation we  have  as  yet  been  so  fortunate  as  to  meet  with  (we 
have  not  seen  Suvern)  to  a  just  estimate  of  that  great  man,  most 
injuriously  represented,  even  by  his  professed  admirers,  as  a  vast- 
ly witty  but  somewhat  extravagant  buffoon.t  His  work  em- 
braces both  the  Doric  and  Ionic  races,  tracing  succinctly,  though 
with  great  clearness,  and  epoch  by  epoch,  the  history  of  the  prin- 
cipal peoples  of  those  races,  whose  constitutions  he  at  the  same 
time  examines  and  developes.  Some  of  these  historical  summa- 
ries (e.  g.  in  regard  to  the  character  and  effects  of  the  Pelopon- 
nesian  war,  v.  II.  pp.  189,  190,  and  pp.  344.  sq.t)  are  admirable 
for  condensation  and  comprehensiveness.  In  this  first  part,  they 
begin  with  the  heroic  age,  of  which  a  very  instructive  account  is 
given,  and  end  with  the  overthrow  of  the  (so  called)  liberties  of 
Greece  by  Philip  and  Alexander.  But,  as  it  is  our  purpose  to 
confine  our  remarks  in  this  paper  principally  to  the  character  and 
history  of  the  Athenian  democracy,  we  shall  barely  refer  our 
readers  to  what  is  said,  in  the  first  volume,  at  much  length,  of 
the  Pelasgi,  of  the  emigrations,  the  genius,  and  the  institutions  of 
the  Dorian  and  Ionian  families,  and  of  the  early  constitution  of 
Greek  society  in  general — all  entirely  worthy  of  their  profound 
attention.  The  rest  of  this  volume  is  taken  up  with  the  legisla- 
tion of  Solon  and  Clisthenes.  The  second  contains  the  internal 
history  of  all  the  Greek  states,  (including  an  analysis  of  their 

Sitical  club  or  union  of  any  sort,  and  was,  under  oligarchies  or  despotisms,  odious 
as  a  badge  or  means  of  democratic  purposes.  They  were  resorted  to  against  the 
Decemvirs  at  Rome.  Dionys.  XI.  22.  Augustus  suppressed  them,  as  Louis 
Philippe  has  done.  Dio  Cass.  1.  52.  e.  3G.  and  see  Aristot.  Pol.  cited  infra.  Iso- 
orat.  ad  Demon. 

*  Schlosser  Geschichte  der  Alten  Welt.  II  Th.  1.  Abth.  254.,  reminds  Wachs- 
muth  that,  as  to  Roman  History,  he  stands  upon  Niebuhr's  shoulders. 

t  Mitchell  and  even  Schlegel  are  in  some  degree  obnoxious  to  this  censure. 

[X  Also  his  account  of  Philip,  vol.  II.  234.  238.] 


372  CONSTITUTIONAL  HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 

constitutions,)  from  the  time  of  the  Persian  war  until  the  Mace- 
donian conquest  was  completed  by  Antipater. 

Were  we  to  find  any  fault  with  the  manner  in  which  the  subject 
of  these  excellent  works  has  been  treated  in  them,  we  should 
object  to  the  dogmatical  tone  of  their  dissent  from  the  opinions 
and  statements  of  the  great  writers  of  antiquity,  in  reference, 
especially,  to  matters  of  contemporary  history,  and  of  a  strictly 
practical  character.  Thus,  for  instance,  speaking  of  the  internal 
decay  and  fall  of  Sparta,  Professor  Hermann  says,  "it  is  so  far 
from  being  true  that  this  decay  was  owing,  as  Aristotle  and 
others  have  stated,  to  the  loss  of  her  foreign  influence,  that  it 
was  rather  at  once,  the  secret  attendant  on  the  growth  of  her 
greatness,  and  the  prime  cause  of  its  decline."  Now,  even  had 
Aristotle  affirmed  what  is  thus  so  roundly  imputed  to  him,  it 
would  be,  in  the  last  degree,  hazardous  for  a  modern  writer, 
especially  a  mere  scholastic  one,  to  set  up  his  own  speculative 
opinions,  or  those  of  any  body  else,  against  the  judgment  of  one 
of  the  deepest,  if  not  the  deepest,  political  thinker  of  any  age, 
living  almost  in  midst  of  the  events  and  the  persons  of  which 
he  speaks.  In  point  of  fact,  however,  Aristotle,  so  far  as  we 
have  been  able  to  discover,  says  no  such  thing.  The  passage, 
vouched  by  our  author,*  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  matter ;  but, 
in  a  subsequent  chapter,!  which  contains  a  most  masterly  view 
of  the  whole  legislation  of  Lycurgus,  as  well  as  in  other  parts 
of  his  work,  he  exposes,  in  the  clearest  manner,  the  vices  and 
defects,  inherent  in  the  constitution  of  Sparta,  that  necessarily 
produced,  in  the  lapse  of  ages,  the  evil  consequences  then  visible 
to  all.  Similar  instances  might  be  cited  from  the  "Historical 
Antiquities"  of  Mr.  Wachsmuth.  Now,  we  by  no  means  object 
to  the  largest  freedom  of  criticism  in  things  as  to  which  we 
have  very  nearly  the  same  means  of  coming  to  a  safe  conclusion 
as  the  writers  of  antiquity.  Many  of  these  writers,  besides,  are 
contradicted  by  others,  or  are  worthy  of  no  great  confidence  in 
themselves.  But  nothing  is  so  hard  to  learn  from  books  as  what 
is,  in  practice,  the  real  character  of  a  government,  or  what  secret 
causes  modify  or  disturb  its  action  and  influence.  It  is  the 
spirit,  not  the  letter,  that  is  to  be  discerned  here,  and  must  be 
spiritually  discerned.  It  is  matter  of  tact,  sagacity,  or  what  is 
called,  emphatically,  judgment.  The  opinion  of  one  such  writer 
as  Aristotle  is  worth,  on  such  a  subject,  a  whole  library  of  soph- 
isters  and  rhetoricians,  or  pedants  and  compilers,  of  any,  but 
especially  of  a  later  age.  Indeed,  we  have  here  touched  upon 
the  only  weak  point  of  the  German  writers  of  the  class  in  ques- 
tion, and  the  one  in  which  they  appear  to  the  greatest  disadvan- 
tage, in  comparison  with  those  of  the  classical  times  of  antiquity. 
*  Arist.  Pol.  Tl.  G.  t  Ibid,  e.  9. 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OP  ATHENS.  373 

These  latter  had,  almost  universally,  a  practical  knowledge  of 
human  affairs,  acquired  in  the  camp,  in  the  forum,  by  foreign 
travel,  and  diversified  experience,  superadded  to  their  accom- 
plishments as  scholars  and  philosophers.  The  former,  on  the 
contrary,  are,  with  a  few  rare  exceptions,  mere  professors,  and, 
of  all  professors,  perhaps  the  least  versed,  by  any  personal  ob- 
servation, in  the  affairs  of  war  and  peace,  as  they  are  conducted 
by  captains  and  politicians.  With  all  the  disadvantages,  however, 
of  such  a  position,  every  competent  critic  must,  in  general,  be 
struck  with  surprise  at  the  sagacity  and  soundness  of  their 
judgments  in  political  history,  not  less  than  at  their  unrivalled 
industry  in  collecting,  and  skill  in  sifting  and  preparing,  the 
evidence.  We  do  not,  therefore,  by  any  means,  wish  to  be  un- 
derstood, in  the  remarks  we  have  just  made,  as  entertaining,  in 
regard  to  these  admirable  writers,  the  opinion  which  a  brilliant 
and  eloquent  but  "presumptuous  and  superficial"  writer*  has 
not  scrupled  to  pronounce  on  all  such  undertakings  of  philolo- 
gists, whose  pretensions  to  write,  or  even  to  understand  the 
history  of  nations,  he  treats  with  scorn  and  ridicule.  This  sneer, 
unbecoming,  as  applied  to  Bentley,  for  whom  it  was  probably 
meant,  were  sheer  impertinence,  addressed  to  the  author  of  the 
"Letter  on  the  Study  of  History,"  to  that  class  of  writers  in  the 
Germany  of  the  present  day.  But  it  is  no  injurious  detraction 
from  their  unquestionable  merits  to  affirm  that,  however  admira- 
ble the  use  they  have  made  of  the  wisdom  of  antiquity,  there 
are  some  of  the  phenomena  of  society,  in  the  various  shapes 
and  phases  it  has  passed  through,  which  the  ancient  writers  have 
dealt  with  in  a  manner  hitherto  unrivalled  by  the  moderns — 
Burke,  himself,  not  excepted,  much  lessMachiavelli  and  Montes- 
quieu— and  which  it  is  difficult  even  to  appreciate  without  a 
considerable  experience  in  public  affairs. 

This  remark  leads  us,  naturally,  to  speak  of  the  attention 
which  has  of  late  years  been  awakened  in  Europe  to  such  in- 
quiries as  those  contained  in  the  works  at  the  head  of  this  article. 
The  history,  and  especially  the  political  history  of  antiquity,  is 
become  a  subject  of  universal  and  deep  interest  among  educated 
people.  Undoubtedly  the  wonderful  ability — so  very  far  superior 
to  any  thing  of  the  kind  known  in  modern  literature  till  toward 
the  close  of  the  last  century — with  which  such  subjects  have 
been  treated  by  some  of  our  contemporaries,  has  contributed  not 
a  little  to  diffuse  a  taste  for  these  studies.  But  that  is  by  no 
means  the  only,  nor,  in  our  opinion,  even  the  principal  cause. 
The  true  explanation  of  the  fact  is  to  be  sought  for  in  the  spirit 
of  the  age,  and  the  character  of  the  eventful  period  in  which  we 
live.  The  first  French  revolution  (if  it  can  be  spoken  of  in  the 
perfect  tense  as  something  past  and  gone)  formed  a  new  and 

•  Bolingbroke  ;  the  epithets  in  inverted  commas  we  adopt  from  Burke. 


374  CONSTITUTIONAL  HISTORY  OP  GREECE. 

mighty  era  in  political  science,  if  science  it  deserves  to  be  called. 
For  the  first  time  in  the  history  of  the  modern  world,  perhaps 
of  the  world  modern  or  ancient,  the  Past  was  formally  renounced 
in  the  legislation  of  a  whole  people,  and  a  government  attempted 
to  be  built  up  on  purely  speculative  principles.  This  is  the 
great  peculiarity  of  that  event,  and  what  makes  it  so  very  import- 
ant in  the  study  Of  civil  society.  Both  the  English  revolution 
and  our  own  had  been,  in  fact,  like  all  previous  ones,  circum- 
scribed within  the  strictest  limits  of  historical  and  hereditary 
right.  A  few  general  phrases  in  the  Declaration  of  Independ- 
ence to  the  contrary  notwithstanding,  the  whole  controversy, 
from  1765  to  1776,  was  diplomatic,  as  German  critics  term  it, — 
it  turned,  that  is  to  say,  on  the  muniments  and  monuments  of 
the  past.  We  claimed,  and  earnestly  insisted  that  we  claimed, 
nothing  new — we  asked  only  for  what  we  were  ready  to  prove 
was  ours  by  a  title  of  record,  confirmed  by  a  possession  of  at 
least  five  hundred  years.  What  we  resisted  we  stigmatized  as 
change ;  and  the  pretensions  of  the  throne  were  doubly  odious 
as  innovation  and  as  tyranny.  Nolumus  mutare  leges  hucusqne 
usitatus  was  our  war-cry,  as  it  had  been  the  watch- word  of  those 
sturdy  barons  of  old  at  Merton.  We  fought  for  our  "birth-right," 
as  it  was  proudly  called,*  the  peculiar  and  undoubted  privileges 
of  our  race — that  family  inheritance  secured  and  settled  upon 
it  at  Runnymede — and,  when  we  came  to  write  our  constitution, 
we  had  nothing  to  do,  and  did  nothing,  but  transcribe  magna 
charta,  with  the  petition  of  right,  and  the  bill  of  rights.t  But 
far  other  were  the  views  of  the  constituent  assembly  in  1789. 
They  were  not  for  doing  their  work  by  halves — nothing  less 
seemed  required  at  the  hands  of  such  master  architects  than  to 
pull  down  the  whole  polity  of  France,  and  build  it  up  again  on 
the  principles  of  Montesquieu.  They  never  once  thought  of 
the  materials  or  the  ground ;  they  had  brick  for  stone,  and  slime 
for  mortar,  and  they  were  to  rear  up  a  city  and  a  tower  whose 
top  should  reach  up  to  heaven,  and  whose  foundations  should 
be  as  immoveable  as  the  earth.  Their  ill-contrived  and  incon- 
gruous fabric,  which,  as  every  body  knows,  led  only  to  confusion, 
not  of  tongues,  but  of  ideas  and  principles,  tumbled  about  their 
ears  as  soon  as  it  was  put  up,  and  a  convention  was  called  to 
reconstruct  a  dilapidated  society.  This  they  proceeded  to  do 
with  as  much  confidence  as  their  predecessors,  but,  of  course, 
according  to  their  own  system,  or,  rather,  that  of  their  master, 
Jean  Jacques.  The  rest  is  too  well  known  to  need  mentioning ; 
but  what  may  be  worth  a  remark  is  that,  up  to  that  moment, 

*  Jus  eximium  nostrae  civitatis. — Cic. 

[t  I  find  this  substantially  stated  by  Mr.  Jefferson — Works,  vol.  4,  28G — in  the 
important  letter  to  Kercheval,  which  reveals  Mr.  J's  whole  system.] 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ATHENS.  375 

modern  Europe  had  little  or  no  experience  in  the  matter  of  gov- 
ernment.    Let  us  dwell  a  few  moments  upon  this  topic. 

The  feudal  constitution,  which  was  established  under  the  suc- 
cessors of  Charlemagne,  and  soon  spread  over  almost  all  Christ- 
endom, bound  up  the  universal  body-politic  in  the  complex  and 
artificial  relations  of  a  mere  territorial  dependence.  Civil  society- 
became  an  aggregate  of  fiefs  or  estates  in  land,  and  the  law  of 
tenures  was  its  only  public  law.  With  this  singular  external 
structure  were  complicated  the  consequences  of  a  conquest,  the 
relation  of  a  superior  and  an  inferior  race,  of  lord  and  villein. 
All  the  mighty  elements  of  popular  commotion  were  completely 
smothered  up — they  lay,  with  the  people  themselves,  more  deep- 
ly buried  than  the  giant  in  the  fable  on  whom  Jove  threw 
iEtna — where  his  throes  might  still  sometimes  shake  the  earth, 
and  his  rage  find  a  vent  in  the  fires  of  the  volcano.  There  was, 
in  truth,  no  people — there  were  villeins  regardant,  and  villeins 
in  gross — serfs  attached  to  the  soil  of  the  manor,  and  burghers 
broken  up  into  guilds,  and  entrenched  behind  the  walls  of  towns. 
But  the  masses,  every  where  divided,  inert  and  enslaved,  counted 
for  nothing.  ,  There  was  no  social  union,  no  country  to  serve, 
no  government  to  obey.  Instead  of  a  sovereign,  there  was  a 
suzerain;  instead  of  laws,  there  were  pacts  and  treaties;  instead 
of  constitutions,  there  were  charters;  instead  of  courts  of  justice, 
there  were  peers  in  armor,  and  wager  of  battle. 

The  condition  of  the  Netherlands,  for  example,  illustrates  most 
strikingly  the  tendency  of  the  feudal  spirit  to  pervade  every  in- 
terest and  institution,  and  to  keep  them  all  separate  and  in  con- 
flict. The  States  General,  controlled  by  the  provincial  states, 
the  provincial  states  "cabined,  cribbed,  confined"  by  the  munici- 
pal governments  of  the  great  towns,  the  towns  themselves  full  of 
inferior  corporations  or  guilds,  animated  by  an  esprit  de  corps  of 
their  own,  submitting  with  reluctance  to  any  general  authority, 
and  combining  with  difficulty  in  the  pursuit  of  any  common  ob- 
ject. In  short,  the  centralization,  complained  of  now-a-days  in 
France,  is  a  blessing  of  later  times. 

When,  after  centuries  of  anarchy,  the  kings  contrived  to  re- 
duce so  many  independent  and  refractory  authorities  to  obedience 
to  the  law,  and  to  establish  something  like  the  order  and  the 
unity  of  a  well- constituted  society,  the  vestiges  of  this  original 
state  of  things  continued,  for  a  long  time,  plainly  impressed  upon 
all  governments,  and  the  spirit  of  the  fend  survived  even  the 
despotic  policy  of  Richelieu.  The  political  history  of  Europe, 
for  eight  centuries  together,  is,  accordingly,  most  remarkable  for 
its  uniformity.  The  same  ideas,  the  same  maxims,  the  same 
conduct,  every  where  ;  and  nothing  that  deserves  to  be  called 
either  popular  or  revolutionary  any  where.  An  occasional  Jac- 
querie, the  perpetual  hostilities  between  the  cities  and  the  neigh- 


376  CONSTITUTIONAL  HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 

boring  barons,  disputed  successions,  the  crusades  of  all  sorts 
against  Mahometan  or  Christian  7iiiscreants,  and  even  the  civil 
and  religious  wars  that  grew  out  of  the  Reformation,  constitute, 
really,  no  exception  to  the  truth  of  our  remark.  They  all  had 
reference  to  existing  institutions,  and  were  addressed  only  to 
modify  and  improve  them — none  of  them  attacked  the  principle 
of  prescription,  or  proclaimed  original,  inalienable,  unalterable 
rights.  The  anabaptists  in  Germany,  and  the  levellers  in  Eng- 
land, if  they  were  not  too  contemptible  in  numbers  and  character 
to  deserve  notice  in  a  general  view  of  the  progress  of  mankind, 
were,  indeed,  a  sort  of  exception ;  but,  surely,  an  exception  that 
proves  the  rule,  for  all  parties  agreed,  at  least,  in  disavowing  and 
detesting  them  and  their  ravings,  as  inconsistent  alike  with 
sound  principles  and  with  social  order  ;  not  to  mention  that  these 
maniacs  can  scarcely  be  said  to  have  given  the  dignity  of  a  me- 
taphysical system  to  their  coarse  fanaticism. 

When  French  society  had  at  length  completely  outgrown  this 
artificial  and  forced  system,  and  some,  and  even  a  very  conside- 
rable change  was  become  unavoidable,  it  so  happened,  from  a 
great  variety  of  causes,  that  all  the  mighty  agents  of  convulsion 
and  decomposition  were  let  loose  at  once,  and  swept  in  a  moment 
every  thing  ancient  or  established  from  the  face  of  the  earth. 
Then,  for  the  first  time,  the  philosophers  of  modern  Europe  had 
an  opportunity  of  witnessing  one  of  those  experiments  in  politi- 
cal chemistry  which  were  continually  occurring  in  the  last  days 
of  Greece,  as  in  a  laboratory  set  apart  for  them.  They  saw  so- 
ciety resolved  into  its  elements,  and  these  elements,  like  atoms 
in  the  void  of  Epicurus,  disengaged,  seeking,  according  to  their 
affinities,  new  combinations,  or  too  refractory  to  be  reduced  into 
any.  They  had  opened  the  gates  of  Chaos,  which,  to  shut,  ex- 
celled their  power,  and, 

Before  their  eyes  in  sudden  view  appeared 

The  secrets  ol  the  hoary  deep,  a  dark 

Illimitable  ocean  without  bound, 

Without  dimension  ;  where  length,  breadth,  and  height, 

And  time,  and  place,  were  lost. 

None  of  the  Lycurguses  of  17S9  had  the  least  idea  of  what 
was  to  ensue,  and  even  when  they  dispersed  in  1791,  after  so 
many  signs  in  the  heavens,  and  on  the  earth,  of  some  great  trou- 
ble at  hand,  and,  when  the  wisest  of  them  had  been  brought  to 
doubt  the  absolute  perfection  of  their  own  work,  they  did  not  yet 
dream  of  the  scenes  of  1792,  and  still  less  of  the  reign  of  terror. 
To  the  genius  of  Burke  alone,  of  then  living  men,  the  impending 
horrors  were,  from  the  first,  revealed  in  all  their  gigantic  shapes 
and  dimensions  of  wo  and  wickedness,  and  nothing  is  better  cal- 
culated to  impress  us  with  an  idea  of  his  immense  superiority  as 
a  profound  political  thinker  over  all  his  contemporaries,  than  the 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ATHENS.  37? 

familiarity  with  which  he  treats,  in  anticipation,  an  event  so  en- 
tirely new  and  anomalous  in  the  history  of  modern  nations. 
Where  was  he  to  seek  in  that  history  for  the  archetype  of  the 
Jacobin?  What  was  there  in  the  doings  of  Tell  or  Rienzi  or  of 
Artevelt  and  Massaniello,  of  Pym  and  Vane,  to  suggest  the  most 
distant  idea  of  that  exterminating  fanaticism  which  possessed 
the  minds  of  the  conceited  and  reckless  sophisters,  the  Robes- 
pierres  and  the  St.  Justs,  who  undertook  to  reconstitute  French 
society  upon  metaphysical  principles,  and  to  regenerate  the  na- 
tions by  a  baptism  of  blood  ? 

But  what  was  then  new  and  anomalous  in  Europe  is  now  be- 
coming apace  its  settled  opinion  and  its  fundamental  law. 
Every  body  that  has  eyes  to  see  and  ears  to  hear  must  admit 
that  democracy  is  the  inevitable  condition  of  modern  nations. 
M.  de  Tocqueville  is  no  discoverer — he  has  only  uttered  what 
all  have  long  felt  and  thought.  Paris  is  the  capital  of  the  demo- 
cratic, no  less  than  of  the  polite  world  ;  as  much  so  as,  and  more 
than  Athens  ever  was.  The  forms  of  royalty  are,  to  a  certain 
extent,  kept  up,  but  there  is  no  reverence  left  for  them.  The 
little  pageantry  that  still  adorns  the  court,  the  hierarchy  of  the 
state,  the  magnificent  equipage  of  its  powers  civil  and  military, 
are  only  what  French  taste  requires  as  decorous  and  befitting 
the  circumstances.  Absolute  equality  before  the  law  and  the 
spirit  of  equality  in  every  thing  are  the  prominent  characteris- 
tics of  the  times ;  and  a  theory  of  human  rights  and  social  pow- 
ers, far  more  levelling  than  was  ever  known  in  Greece,  has  es- 
tablished itself  in  the  laws  of  the  state  and  in  the  opinions  of 
the  people.  The  same  causes  are  producing  the  same  tendencies 
every  where,  and  whatever  shape  the  universal  democracy  that 
is  approaching  may  ultimately  take,  whether  the  republican  or 
the  monarchical,  (for  that  is  the  great  problem  of  society,  and 
our  recent  experience  is  far  from  encouraging,)  nothing  seems  to 
us  surer,  than  that  all  institutions,  bottomed  upon  distinctions  of 
race  or  caste,  will  sooner  or  later,  peaceably  or  by  violence,  fall 
before  the  progress  of  commerce  and  opinion. 

It  is  quite  natural,  therefore,  that  with  this  conviction  impres- 
sed upon  their  minds,  people  should  look  with  more  curiosity 
than  formerly,  into  the  history  of  states  which  grew  up  under 
circumstances,  and  assumed  forms  so  totally  different,  from  those 
of  feudal  Europe.  It  so  happens,  too,  that  the  language  in  which 
the  so-called  democracy  of  Athens  has  perpetuated  its  principles 
and  its  glory,  is  by  far  the  most  perfect  instrument  of  human 
thought  ever  vouchsafed  to  a  people,  and  has  been  embalmed  in 
eloquence  and  poetry  entirely  worthy  of  its  own  perfections. 
But  these  attractions,  great  as  they  undoubtedly  are,  are  but  sub- 
ordinate to  others  more  immediately  connected  with  the  subject 
vol.  i. — 48 


378  CONSTITUTIONAL  HISTORY  OP  GREECE. 

we  are  discussing.  Heeren,  after  Heyne,  has  more  than  once 
adverted  to  the  vast  and  diversified  political  experience  of  the 
Greeks.  Syracuse,  for  instance,  presents,  in  its  history  alone,  a 
complete  compendium  of  governments,  having  passed  through  a 
greater  number  of  revolutions,  from  one  form  of  polity  to  an- 
other, through  almost  every  combination  of  the  social  elements, 
than  occurs  in  the  annals  of  modern  Europe.  So  every  part  of 
Greece  proper,  with  the  exception  of  some  Dorian  states,  was  in 
perpetual  commotion,  and  that  country  is  fully  entitled  to  be 
called,  as  it  is  by  the  writer  just  mentioned,  a  "sample-paper  of 
free  commonwealths."*  It  was,  therefore,  quite  a  matter  of 
course  not  only  that  a  wonderful  degree  of  practical  ability 
should  be  acquired  by  those  who  were  called  upon  to  act  in  such 
eventful  and  rapidly  shifting  scenes,  ullt  tna*  the  class  of  philo- 
sophers who,  in  later  times,  withdrew  as  much  as  possible  from 
politics,  to  devote  themselves  to  a  life  of  contemplation,  could  not 
witness  them  without  being  led  to  reflect  much  and  deeply  upon 
the  principles  of  civil  society.  Accordingly,  this  was  universally 
the  case.  There  is  no  feature  in  the  intellectual  history  of  the 
Greeks  more  remarkable,  than  the  depth  and  comprehensiveness 
ot  their  political  speculations.  Not  Plato  alone,  but  almost  every 
philosopher  of  the  many  sects  that  sprang  up  out  of  the  school 
of  Socrates,  published  his  thoughts  upon  the  existing  govern- 
ments of  his  country,  or  built  one  of  those  castles  in  the  air, 
called  an  "idea  of  a  perfect  commonwealth."  It  is,  indeed,  from 
such  things,  even  more  than  from  the  events  of  Grecian  story,  or 
the  conduct  and  the  language  of  practical  statesmen,  that  the 
political  opinions  of  the  better  classes  of  society  may  be  gathered. 
These  dreams  embody  their  desires,  and  show  what  would  have 
been  the  shape  of  Greek  legislation,  had  circumstances  and  the 
will  of  the  mass  of  the  people  not  been,  as  they  every  where  are, 
too  refractory  to  be  controlled  by  speculative  notions  and  artifi- 
cial systems. 

Mr.  Hermann  remarks  that  "the  treatises  of  the  ancients  them- 
selves, on  their  manners,  institutions,  and  governments,  are  with 
the  exception  of  a  few  fragments,  wholly  lost  ;  but,  independent- 
ly of  the  historians  and  orators,  who  form  in  their  absence  our 
chief  authority,  there  is  scarcely  a  writer  of  the  better  period  of 
Greek  literature,  but  contains  numerous  allusions  to  the  public 
life  of  his  times."  That  we  have  lost  many  treasures  of  infor- 
mation on  these  interesting  subjects,  is  undeniable.  The  great 
work  of  Aristotle,t  in  which  he  analysed  and  censured  the  con- 

*  In  dieser  Griechischen  Welt  die  gleichsam  eine  Muster-Charte  freyer  Staa- 
ten  war.  Ideen,  etc.  3  Th.  Europaische  Vol  leer,  p.  327.  cf.  his  Staaten  des 
Alterthums  III.  Abschn.2.  period. 

I  \oa«<j.a,  or  HokirsTai  IIoXsuv. 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OP  ATHENS.  379 

stitutions  of  the  then  civilized  world  in  their  endless  variety, 
amounting,  it  is  said,  by  some,  to  no  less  than  two  hundred  and 
fifty,  is  no  doubt,  in  some  respects,  though  we  must  think  rather 
subordinate  ones,  quite  irreparable.  The  same  thing  may  be 
said  of  Heraclides  Ponticus,  and  others  among  his  successors. 
Yet  it  is  probable  that  the  historian  has  lost  more  than  the  philo- 
sopher, and  the  curious  philosopher  more  than  the  statesman,  or 
the  man  of  the  world,  in  those  works.  The  resources  left  us  for 
any  practically  useful  purpose  are,  at  any  rate,  most  abundant. 
If  we  have  lost  Aristotle's  collection  or  analysis  of  Polities,  we 
have  the  ripe  fruit  of  a  life  of  profound  thought  and  extensive 
observation,  in  his  Philosophy  of  Politics.*  Heraclides  Ponticus, 
from  the  age  in  which  he  lived,  and  still  more  from  a  passage  in 
Cicero,t  we  take  to  have  been  a  writer  of  inferior  value,  inas- 
much as  a  mere  speculative  and  scholastic  one,  who  flourished 
in  a  period  when  Greek  genius  and  spirit  were  already  on  the 
decline.  If,  before  that  period,  authors  who  treated  of  politics  in 
a  theoretical  or  systematic  form,  were  but  few,  this  deficiency  is 
amply  made  up,  not  only  by  the  historians  and  orators,  as  Mr. 
Hermann  has,  it,  but  by  all  the  writers  of  all  sorts,  who  are  come 
down  to  us  from  the  most  brilliant  era  of  those  immortal  com- 
monwealths ;  the  interval  between  the  Persian  and  the  Pelopon- 
nesian,  and  thence  down  to  the  Lamian  war.  The  truth  is,  that 
the  literature,  like  the  life  (of  which  it  was  the  faithful  mirror) 
of  Greece,  was  thoroughly  political.  Its  great  predominant  pe- 
culiarity is  its  strictly  historical  complexion,  even  in  things 
where  it  might  be  suspected  of  being,  or  might  be  expected  to 
be,  most  fictitious  and  fanciful.  Their  tragedies,  for  instance, 
were  full  of  politics,  those  of  Euripides  especially.^:  The  Old 
Comedy  is  a  part,  and  by  no  means  an  unimportant  one,  of  the 
constitutional  history  of  Athens,  and  Timanthes§  did  not  paint  the 
Demus  more  to  the  life  than  Aristophanes.  Pindar  is  vouched 
by  Miiller  and  others,  to  prove  that  Lycurgus  did  no  more  than 
reform  the  hereditary  institutions  of  the  Dorians,  and  we  bow  to 
the  authority  of  a  poet,  distinguished  not  less  by  deep  wisdom 
and  grave  morality,  than  by  the  qualties  for  which  his  name  has 
furnished  an  epithet.ll  One  of  the  remarkable  things  in  Herodo- 
tus, and  one  of  the  most  remarkable  things  of  the  kind  in  any 
author,  is  the  debate  he  puts  into  the  mouth  of  the  Magophoni, 
as  to  the  constitution  they  ought  to  adopt  for  Persia,  after  the 
overthrow  of  the  usurpers.     It  is  a  discussion  of  the  relative  me- 

*  TLoXirixa. 

t  Ad  Q.uint.  Fratr.  III.  5. 
X  Orest.  696,  772.     Suppl.  400,  sqq. 

[§  Parrhasius  Plin.  H.  N.  30.  c.  5.]    Parrhasius  should  perhaps  be  substituted  fur 
Timanthes  in  the  text. — Publishers. 
II  The  passage  cited  is  Pyth.  I.  61,  with  Bockh's  Explic. 


380  CONSTITUTIONAL  HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 

rits  of  the  three  simple  forms  of  government,  concluding  with  a 
deliberate  preference  of  the  monarchical,  the  one  in  which,  it  is 
alleged,  mankind  have  universally  sought  and  found  a  refuge 
from  the  evils  of  all  others.  *Mitford,  an  able,  certainly,  but  pre- 
judiced and  not  very  learned  writer,  considers  this  as  an  expres- 
sion of  the  opinion  of  Herodotus,  veiled  in  the  specious  guise  of 
a  dramatic  propriety  of  discourse.  This  we  do  not  think  re- 
concilable with  another  very  remarkable  passage  of  the  old  his- 
torian, to  which  we  shall  hereafter  refer,  nor  indeed  with  proba- 
bility, considering  what  was  the  date  of  his  testimony.  But,  if 
the  disputation  referred  to  does  not  prove  Herodotus  to  have  been 
a  monarchist,  it  shows  him  to  have  been  deep  in  political  spe- 
culation, and  is  a  striking  confirmation  of  our  previous  remarks, 
as  to  the  pervading  influence,  as  well  as  the  profound  and  com- 
prehensive spirit,  of  political  philosophy  among  the  Greeks. 

But  whatever  may  be  the  extent  and  variety  of  the  sources  on 
which  we  have  to  draw  for  our  knowledge  of  the  political  opin- 
ions and  institutions  of  Greece,  it  is  impossible  not  to  join  in 
Heynes  lamentations!  over  the  historians,  Ephorus  and  Theo- 
pompus,  two  famous  disciples  of  Isocrates.t  The  latter,  especi- 
ally recommended  to  us  by  the  very  censures  passed  upon  him 
by  the  ancients.  He  is  represented  as  a  fault-finder  by  complex- 
ion, and  as  more  to  be  relied  on  when  he  praised,  than  when  he 
blamed. §  As  to  his  censoriousness,  Professor  Wachsmuth  well 
remarks  that,  considering  the  corruptions,  almost  beyond  all  cre- 
dibility, of  the  times  in  which  he  lived  and  wrote,  it  is  not  in  the 
least  to  be  wondered  at,  and  was  most  probably  any  thing  but 
excessive.  His  master,  Isocrates,  "that  old  man  eloquent"  him- 
self, whom 


-That  dishonest  victory 


At  Cheronea,  fatal  to  liberty, 
Killed  by  report — 

the  panegyrist,  par  excellence,  of  Athens,  the  professed  champion 
of  the  constitution  of  Solon  and  Clisthenes,  or  rather,  as  he 
affirms  in  one  of  his  orations,  II  of  that  constitution  of  a  thousand 
years,  which  the  two  lawgivers  only  accommodated  in  some 

[*  Schlosser,  speaking  of  4  and  5  of  Mitford's  History  not  having  been  as  yet 
translated  into  German,  says,  "was  uns  sehr  wohlgethan  scheint,  da  die  Parthey- 
lichkeit  ins  Lacherliche  und  die  Breite  ins  unaustehliche  geht.  g.  d.  alt  Welt  1. 
th.  2  abth.  216  cf.  227-218.] 

[t  But  see  Schlosser  1  Th.  2.  abth.  277.  8  (n.).] 

X  Opusc.  II.  280,  sqq.,  an  excellent  dissertation  on  the  extent  of  our  losses  in 
the  political  writings  of  the  ancients,  and  bearing  on  more  than  one  of  the  points 
discussed  in  the  text. 

§  Plut.  Lysander,  c.  30.     But  see  Niebuhr,  R.  G.  v.  1.  p.  150. 

II  Panathenaic.  Theseus,  according  to  him,  was  the  founder  of  democracy  ; 
and,  in  a  certain  sense,  we  have  no  doubt  he  was. 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ATHENS.  381 

particulars  to  a  new  condition  of  things — who  makes  it  his  boast 
that  he  had  omitted  no  opportunity  of  extolling  the  democracy, 
and  who,  even  in  that  most  instructive  parallel,  or  rather  contrast, 
between  that  democracy  in  its  pristine  estate,  and  as  it  then  was, 
debauched  and  deformed  by  demagogues,  and  become  the  stain 
and  scandal  of  Greece,  still  prefers  it  to  an  oligarchy,  and  glories, 
as  well  he  might,  in  the  victories  of  Conon,  and  the  merciful 
and  moderate  policy  of  Thrasybulus  and  his  compeers* — even 
he  seems  to  have  lived  long  enough  to  survive  all  faith  in  popular 
governments,  and  to  wish,  like  Abbe  Sieyes  in  1799,  for,  "one 
head  and  one  sword"  to  think  and  to  fight  for  confederated 
Greece.f  His  celebrated  pupil,  who  was  born  more  than  half  a 
century  later,  saw  under  the  despotism  of  Macedon,  the  consum- 
mation of  all  the  evils  of  which  the  Areopagitic  oration  is  so 
lively  a  portraiture.  Cheronea  was  indeed  an  era  of  downfall, 
but  what  shall  we  say  of  Cranon  and  Antipater  7  and  then  the 
degradation,  beyond  all  power  of  language  to  characterize,  for 
which  the  people  of  Athens  were  thus  prepared,  and  which  it 
exhibited  in  such  glaring  and  disgusting  forms  under  Demetrius 
the  Phalereau,  and  Demetrius  Poliorcetes.  What  wonder  is  it 
that  a  man  of  ardent  and  elevated  genius,  like  Theopompus, 
living  in  scenes  of  such  baseness  and  profligacy,  and  that  amidst 
the  ruins  of  so  much  glory,  should  find  every  thing  amiss,  and, 
if  he  wrote  as  he  felt,  should  leave  behind  him  a  dark  picture  of 
his  degenerate  and  worthless  contemporaries  ?  He  was  a  witness, 
for  instance,  to  the  administration  of  that  great  "friend  of  the 
people,"  Eubulus  of  Anaphlystus,  the  whole  drift  of  whose  pol- 
icy was  to  render  the  mob  he  misled  as  dissolute  and  as  brutish  as 
the  herd  of  Comus,  and  who  caused  them  to  devote  to  theatrical 
amusements,  by  a  solemn  act  of  legislation,  and  under  pain  of 
death  denounced  against  any  patriotic  attempt  to  repeal  it,  the 
funds  necessary  to  the  public  defence — he  saw  this  pestilent 
demagogue,  vehemently  suspected,  too,  (as  from  the  tendency 
of  his  measures  he  well  might  be,)  of  being  all  the  while  in  the 
pay  of  Philip  of  Macedon,  reduce  Athens  to  a  condition  as  bad 
in  point  of  effeminacy  and  debauchery  as  that  of  Tarentum,  and 
honored  for  doing  so,  both  during  his  life  and  after  his  death, 
beyond  the  wisest  and  best  of  her  statesmen ;  how  should  he 
record  the  doings  or  draw  the  character  of  such  a  man,  without 
seeming  to  write  history  with  the  pen  of  satire?  In  the  tenth 
book  of  his  history  of  Philip,  this  celebrated  writer  treated  of 
the  demagogues  of  Athens  in  detail,  those  cup-bearers  of  the 
democracy,  as  Plato  expresses  it,  who  drenched  it  with  liberty 
until  it  was  drunk,  and  to  whose  profligate  sycophancy  the  most 
popular  of  the  tragic  poets  imputes  all  the  errors  and  vices  of 

*  Areopagitic.  f  Tlgog  <$i\irfrfov. 


382  CONSTITUTIONAL  HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 

the  otherwise  unerring  people.*  There  is  not  to  be  found  in  the 
catalogues  of  laborious  compilers,  like  Fabricius,  the  trace  of 
any  work  of  antiquity,  of  which  we  more  sensibly  regret  the 
loss,  than  of  this.t 

Theopompus,  like  Xenophon,  was  a  continuator  of  Thucy- 
dides.  It  is,  indeed,  a  subject  of  congratulation,  that  the  works 
of  this  great  man  did  not  share  the  fate  of  his  successors.  An- 
tiquity has  left  us  three  witnesses  of  the  three  common  forms 
of  government  in  their  excess  or  corruption,  in  three  historians, 
hitherto,  perhaps,  unrivalled  by  the  moderns — Thucydides.  Sal- 
lust,  and  Tacitus.  Of  these,  the  first  in  order  is,  in  our  opinion, 
the  first  in  merit.  Sallust  is  flattered  by  the  comparison,  but  we 
well  know  and  fully  appreciate  the  transcendant  power  of  him 
who  painted  the  despotism  of  the  first  Caesars,  the  Dante  of 
history,  whose  deep  thought,  revealed  rather  than  expressed 
in  sentences  of  a  pregnant,  and  sometimes  obscure  brevity, 
seems  in  harmony  with  his  dark  and  terrible  subject,  like  the 
famous  words  upon  the  gate  of  hell — 

Queste  parole  di  colore  oscuro. 

But  the  mighty  annalist  of  Tiberius,  and  Caligula,  and  Clau- 
dius, and  Nero,  deplores  the  dismal  monotony  of  the  crimes  he 
records,  and  envies  the  historians  of  an  earlier  age  the  more 
brilliant  and  various  subjects  presented  to  them  by  the  achiev- 
ments  of  '-'The  Roman  People."  And  it  is  principally  in  this 
respect,  that  we  consider  the  two  great  works  of  Tacitus  as  on 
the  whole  less  precious  as  monuments  of  the  past,  as  requiring 
for  their  execution,  if  possible,  a  less  commanding  order  of  ability, 
than  that  of  Thucydides.  With  all  his  profound  knowledge  of 
human  nature,  in  which  no  one  ever  surpassed  him,  the  Roman 
historian  found  his  theme  not  only  cloying  for  sameness,  but  to 
present  fewer  objects  of  high  interest,  and  to  teach  fewer  lessons 
of  practical  importance  for  succeeding  times,  than  he  desired  to 
transmit  to  them.  Monarchical  despotism,  especially  in  that 
rude  form,  is  a  comparatively  simple  thing.  Even  the  military 
democracy  into  which  the  monarchy  of  the  Caesars  soon  degen- 
erated, and  which  furnished,  in  bloody  contests  for  the  crown, 
scenes  of  a  more  stirring  and  diversified  dramatic  character, 
will  bear  no  comparison  with  the  tumultuary  popular  govern- 
ments, always  in  a  state  of  war  and  commotion,  that  figure  in 
Greek  story.     Such  governments,  it  cannot  be  too  often  repeated, 

*  Euripides. 

Asivov  hi  croXXoi  xaxo'jgyovg  oVav  I'^wtfi  tpotfrarag. 

AXX'  orav  ^r^-jg  Xa/owCi,  x^cra  /SouXsuoucr'  dsi.  —  Orest.  772-3. 
[Cf.  Aristoph.  Eq.  1350.] 
[t  Theo.  Soph.] 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ATHENS.  383 

are  the  true  school  of  politics.*  Accordingly,  never  was  subject 
so  fortunately,  or,  we  should  rather  say,  wisely  chosen,  as  that 
of  Thucydides;  for  the  choice  itself  is  the  best  evidence  of  his 
pre-eminent  ability  to  do  it  justice.  He  foresaw,  he  tells  us, 
from  his  knowledge  of  Greek  affairs,  that  the  war  was  destined 
to  be,  as  it  proved,  the  most  eventful  and  most  obstinate  that 
had  ever  been  waged  among  men.  He  began  at  once  to  take 
all  the  measures  necessary  for  obtaining  the  best  information. 
He  deliberately  records  and  ratifies  as  a  historian  what  had  thus 
been  revealed  to  the  prophetic  eye  of  the  statesman,  and,  in  a 
solemn  proem,  worthy  of  the  heroic  poem  it  precedes,t  he  has 
sketched  in  a  few  words  the  outline  of  this  grand  historical 
picture. 

There  can  be  no  better  illustration  of  the  remarks  we  made, 
when  speaking  just  now  of  the  freedom  which  the  authors  be- 
fore us,  like  so  many  other  Germans  of  the  present  time,  use  in 
questioning  the  opinions  of  such  men  as  Aristotle,  than  the 
absurd  judgment  passed  by  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus — a  gen- 
erally excellent  critic — upon  Thucydides,  in  regard  to  the  choice 
of  his  subject:  It  is  the  language  of  a  finical  and  fantastical 
pedant,  who  would  have  history  written  so  as  to  give  no  offence 
"to  ears  polite,"  and  who  thought  it  a  "dreadful  thing"  to  remind 
a  people  of  the  stern  but  instructive  lessons  of  its  experience, 
as  Nick  Bottom  thought  it,  "to  bring  in,  God  shield  us  !  a  lion 
among  ladies."  The  flagrant  folly  of  Dionysius  in  this  respect, 
is  the  more  remarkable,  because  in  the  same  breath  he  praises, 
and  justly,  we  have  no  doubt,  Theopompus  for  that  very  severity 
in  exposing  the  corruptions  of  his  age  and  country,  for  which 
others  censured  him,  and  for  an  approach  to  which  the  critic 
himself  finds  so  much  fault  with  Thucydides.  According  to 
him,  the  former  of  these  two  historians  excelled  all  others  by 
his  deep  insight  into  motives,  his  sagacity  in  detecting  hypocrisy, 
and  the  power  with  which  he  tore  off  the  masks  of  a  specious 
but  dishonest  conduct.  Like  Tacitus,  he  looked  rather  to  the 
dark  side  of  human  nature,  and  for  the  benefit  of  his  patient, 
used  the  knife  and  the  cautery  without  mercy.  Yet  it  is  this 
very  eulogist  of  such  a  writer,  who  thinks  the  most  important 
period  of  Greek  affairs  should  have  been  suffered  to  sink  into 
oblivion,  because  it  was  not  such  a  one  as  that  people  might 
dwell  on  with  particular  complacency ! 

The  Peloponnesian  war  has  been  aptly  called  the  "thirty  years 
war"  of  Greece  ;  though  with  a  view  to  distant  consequences,  it 
was  far  worse  than  that  memorable  struggle.  It  not  only  pro- 
duced but  perpetuated  the  scenes  painted  by  Schiller  in  "Wal- 
lenstein's  Lager."     It  was  a  great  era,  not  of  revolution  merely, 

*  Plato  called  ultra  democracy  the  #avTwwX»ov  of  governments. — Plat.  Dio, 
t  Marcellinus. 


384  CONSTITUTIONAL  HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 

but  of  downfall  and  ruin.  We  have  already  spoken  of  the  light 
in  which  it  was  regarded  by  Thucydides,*  and  we  may  here 
add  that  its  moral  and  political  effects  of  all  sorts  have  been 
very  forcibly  summed  up.  perhaps  even  somewhat  exaggerated, 
by  Professor  Wachsmuth.f  That  is  to  say,  at  least,  we  think 
all  the  seeds  of  decay  and  corruption  had  been  sown  broad  cast 
before  that  war,  and  were  only  "brought  up  a  little  sooner,  and 
made  preternaturally  fruitful  and  teeming  by  its  baneful  in- 
fluences of  all  sorts ;  while  he  appears  to  regard  it  not  only  as 
the  occasion,  but  to  a  greater  extent  than  we  are  ready  to  admit, 
the  prime  cause  of  much  that  ensued  upon  it.  At  any  rate,  how- 
ever, it  was  an  epoch  in  the  history  of  those  commonwealths  that 
of  all  others  most  deserved  to  be  treated  by  the  hand  of  a  master, 
and  of  just  such  a  master.  It  was,  as  was  said  of  a  great  event 
of  our  times,  le  commencement  de  la  fin,  if  not  the  end  itself. 
It  found  Athens  mistress  of  the  greater  part  of  Greece,  it  left  her 
at  its  mercy.  The  proud  city  narrowly  escaped  being  razed  to 
the  ground,  and  seeing  her  whole  people,  gifted  then  as  none 
other  ever  has  been,  sold  into  slavery. t  After  the  mighty  events 
of  the  Persian  invasion,  of  which  the  story  sounds  like  mytho- 
logy, and  in  which  her  conduct — nothing  short  of  the  sublime 
heroism — deserved  and  won  for  her  the  title  and  the  influence  of 
liberatress  of  Greece,  §  she  became,  partly  by  the  eminent  abili- 
ties of  her  own  statesmen,  partly  by  the  backwardness  of  Sparta, 
and  her  want  of  a  navy,  or  her  aversion  to  distant  enterprises 
and  foreign  dominion,  partly  and  perhaps  more  than  all  the  rest, 
fron  the  extreme  and  deserved  odiousness  of  Pausanias,  the 
head  of  a  confederacy  of  maritime  states,  embracing  almost  all 
the  islands  and  shores  of  the  iEgean  Sea.  The  object  of  it  was 
defence  against  the  common  enemy,  the  Great  King,  and  each 
state  was  to  furnish,  for  that  purpose,  its  quota  of  troops  and 
money.  It  was  the  equitable  assessment  of  this  tax  that  obtain- 
ed for  Aristides  his  envied  but  not  disputed  title  of  "the  just." 
But  this  system,  projected  by  the  deep  policy  of  Themistocles, 
and  completed  by  the  victories  of  Cimon,  was  perverted  by  Pe- 
ricles, as  he  did  every  thing,  to  the  purposes  of  demagogy,  and 
the  federal  contributions  were  squandered,  under  his  adminis- 
tration, in  fostering  the  arts,  and  pandering  to  the  pleasures  of  a 
voluptuous  city.  The  natural  consequence  of  this  injustice, 
and  of  the  lawless  and  insolent  spirit  that  led  to  it,  was  that 
her  dependencies  became  impatient  of  the  yoke,  and  her  great 

*  L.l.  c.  22,  23, 

t  v.  II.  pp.  181.  sqq.,  and  393,  4.  The  former  passage  is  only  a  paraphrase  of 
Thucydides. 

t  See  Herder's  Gesch.  der  Mensch.  III.,  163—166,  as  to  the  narrowness  of  the 
escape,  Isocratcs,  Areopagit.     [Demosth.  irugairgeagEiag  xS'.J 

§  The  language  of  Herodotus  is  express,  emphatic,  and  conclusive.     VII.  139. 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ATHENS.  385 

rival  was  roused  up  from  her  drowsy  apathy,  and,  about  half  a 
century  after  the  last  Persian  army  was  withdrawn,  these  dis- 
contents broke  out  against  the  "tyrant  state"  in  a  war  of  twenty- 
seven  years.  In  the  course  of  that  war,  Athens  discovered  an 
extent  and  variety  of  resources,  a  capacity  for  affairs  both  civil 
and  military,  a  patience  and  constancy  under  misfortune,  and 
an  elastic  buoyancy  of  character,  which  must  strike  every  one 
with  astonishment.  But,  coupled  with  the  display  of  these  high 
qualities,  was  the  progress,  every  day  more  rapid,  of  dissolute- 
ness and  misrule,  under  the  miserable  demagogues,  the  Cleons 
and  Hyperboluses,  who  divided  among  them  the  influence  which 
Pericles  had  exercised  without  a  rival  over  the  popular  mind. 
The  bitter  fruits  of  his  policy,  which  his  extraordinary  abilities, 
helped  by  most  favorable  circumstances,  had  enabled  him  to 
retard  or  to  disguise,  now  shot  forth,  on  all  sides,  in  the  rankest 
luxuriance. 

It  is  just  that  period  of  the  history  of  Athens  that  the  great 
contemporary  writer  in  question  has  recorded,  as  he  assures  us 
with  an  impressive  seriousness,  not  for  the  purpose  of  a  mere 
occasional  display,  or  to  excite  curiosity  by  a  brilliant  tale,  but  as 
a  lesson  of  the  deepest  import,  and  "an  acquisition  for  all  time," 
xtyi^u  sis  as/.*  He  was  about  forty  years  of  age  at  the  breaking 
out  of  the  war,  and  survived  it  some  time.  In  the  seventh  year 
of  it,  he  was  a  general  in  the  Athenian  service,  but,  having  failed 
to  save  Amphipolis,  where  he  arrived  the  day  after  it  fell  into 
the  hands  of  Brasidas,  he  was,  on  Cleon's  motion,  punished  for 
his  mishap  with  banishment,  and  thereupon  retired  to  his  estates 
(which  were  very  considerable)  in  Thrace.  It  was  in  this  tran- 
quil solitude  ("under  a  platane,"  says  one  of  his  biographerst) 
that  he  composed  his  immortal  work,  which  he  opens  with  a 
masterly  view  of  Greek  history  from  the  earliest  time,  but  espe- 
cially from  the  Persian  to  the  Peloponnesian  war.  This  latter 
period,  however  important,  had,  he  informs  us,  been  neglected 
by  all  his  predecessors,  with  the  single  exception  of  Hellanicus, 
who  had  touched  upon  it  with  extreme  brevity,  however,  and 
without  any  regard  to  chronological  order.  Unfortunately,  his 
narrative  reaches  only  to  the  twenty-first  year  of  the  war.  No 
man  ever  took  greater  pains  to  learn  the  truth,  or  was,  in  every 
respect,  more  perfectly  master  of  his  subject. i  His  greatness  of 
mind  is  sufficiently  evinced  by  the  stern  impartiality  and  the 
austere  tone  of  his  narrative,  in  no  part  of  which — unless  his 
portraiture  of  the  worthless  Cleon  be  considered  as  an  exception, 
is  there  to  be  discovered  the  slightest  tincture  of  resentment  for 
the  wrongs  he  had  su  ffered  at  the  hands  of  the  tyrannical  De- 

*  L.  i.  c:  24. 

t  Marcellinns,  ed.  Bekker,  p.  5. 

i  Id.  4. 

vol.  i.— 49 


386  CONSTITUTIONAL  HIS10RY  OP  GREECE. 

mus.*  With  every  advantage  of  illustrious  birth,  ample  fortune 
and  finished  education,  acquired  after  the  fashion  of  the  day,  in 
the  school  of  Anaxagoras  the  philosopher,  and  Antiphon  the 
rhetorician — a  man  who  subsequently  played  a  conspicuous  part 
in  politics,  and  of  whom  he  speaks  in  the  highest  terms,  both  as 
a  statesman  and  an  oratort — he  found  himself  surrounded,  in 
his  contemporaries,  with  the  greatest  minds  that  ever  adorned 
the  annals  of  his  country.  Herodotus,  Sophocles,  Euripides, 
Aristophanes,  "the  Olympian"  Pericles,  Socrates,  the  chief  of 
thinkers,  Phidias,  the  prince  of  statuaries — these  are  names 
which,  if  we  except  Plato,  Aristotle,!  and  Demosthenes,  can 
scarcely  be  said  to  have  been  equalled  in  a  later,  or,  indeed,  any 
age  of  Grecian  history.  Thucydides  belonged  to  the  same  class 
of  minds,  cast  in  the  grandest  mould.  With  habits  of  compre- 
hensive generalization,  and  the  deep  thought  nursed  in  solitude, 
he  combined  the  sober  experience  and  the  practical  sagacity  of 
the  statesman  and  soldier,  and  there  is  scarcely  a  page  of  his 
work  but  bears  witness  to  his  profound  political  wisdom,  and  his 
power  of  teaching  philosophy  by  a  bare  recital  of  facts.  The 
speeches,  which  he  was  the  first  to  introduce,  and  to  make  an  es- 
sential ingredient  in  ancient  history,  and  which  serve,  like  the 
chorus  in  their  tragedies,  to  express  public  opinion  and  the  spirit 
of  the  times,  as  well  as  to  convey,  in  a  condensed  form,  statisti- 
cal details  and  general  views  of  the  character  and  condition  of 
nations,  are  signally  distinguished  by  all  these  rare  qualities.  In 
one  of  these,  ascribed  by  him  to  Pericles,  he  gives  a  full  expose 
of  the  ways  and  means  of  the  republic  at  the  breaking  out  of  the 
war.  In  another,  supposed  to  be  delivered  by  the  same  great  per- 
sonage, as  a  funeral  oration  over  the  brave  men  who  fell  in  the 
first  encounter  with  the  enemy,  we  have  a  truly  captivating  pic- 
ture of  the  democracy,  as  it  had  been  up  to  that  time,  that  is  to 
say,  in  its  best  and  highest  estate,  and  we  are  thus  enabled  to 
measure  the  extent  of  its  fall,  during  the  fatal  period  intended  to 
be  embraced  by  his  history.  Nothing  can  be  more  strikingly  il- 
lustrative of  the  great  object  of  the  work,  than  the  contrast  thus 
presented  ;  but  every  part  of  this  breviary  of  statesmen  is  replete 
with  instruction,  for  minds  capable  of  discerning,  amidst  circum- 
stances apparently  the  most  diversified,  the  great  general  causes 
that  affect  the  destinies  of  nations.  He  has  sketched,  in  a  few 
chapters,  relative  to  the  bloody  scenes  in  Corcyra,  a  mighty  revo- 
lution that  had  taken  place  in  the  manners  of  the  country  a  little 
before  the  date  of  his  narrative,  and  this  moral  change  sufficient- 
ly accounts  for  all  the  political  evils  that  are  to  follow. §     In  an- 

*  Marcellinus  contrasts  him,  in  this  respect,  with  Herodotus,  c.  5;  and  see  the 
instance  given  c.  4.  Compare  Diony.  Halic.  Judic.  de  Thucyd.  Hist.  c.  8. 
t  L.  8.  c.  64.  [x  Diod.  Sic  xv.  76.] 

§  L.  3.  c.  82. 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ATHENS.  387 

other  passage,  the  whole  philosophy  of  a  "reign  of  terror,"  the 
mystery  of  constructive  majorities,  by  which  a  few  bold  and 
crafty  spirits  dictate  their  own  opinions  to  the  multitudes  they 
affect  to  obey,  and  measures  opposed  by  almost  every  individual 
of  a  great  mass  are  seemingly  adopted  with  perfect  unanimity,  is 
revealed  in  a  few  words,  as  exactly  descriptive  of  certain  recent 
events,  as  if  they  had  been  expressly  intended  as  a  history  of 
them.*  It  is  curious  to  see  what  is  called,  by  the  political  wire- 
drawers  of  the  day,  "party  discipline,"  or  in  plain  English,  the 
art  of  thinking  for  the  people,  as  familiar  to  the  demagogues  of 
antiquity  as  to  those  even  of  this  privileged  age. 

As  to  the  style  and  economy  of  this  great  work,  it  does  not 
fall  within  the  scope  of  the  present  article  to  expatiate  upon 
them.  One  thing,  however,  is  too  remarkable  to  be  omitted  in 
this  connection,  and  that  is  that  the  author's  claim  to  be  regard- 
ed as  the  father  of  historical  criticism  is  admitted  to  be  just  even 
by  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus.  We  have  already  adverted  to 
what  this  rhetorician  has  to  say  in  one  of  his  works,  of  the  his- 
torian's selecting  the  Peloponnesian  war  for  his  subject :  he  has 
written  another  very  long  and  elaborate  diatribe,t  expressly  to 
show  that  Thucydides  was  scarcely  more  fortunate  in  his  man- 
ner of  treating  that  subject  than  in  his  choice  of  it.}  We  shall 
not  enter  here  into  a  detailed  examination  of  his  objections. 
They  go  to  form  as  well  as  substance,  to  arrangement  and  exe- 
cution, to  words  and  things.  He  considers  the  whole  plan  of 
the  author  as  bad ;  finds  him  bringing  out  into  disproportionate 
relief  some  parts  of  his  matter,  while  others,  in  the  opinion  of  the 
critic  just  as  important,  are  slurred  over  with  a  bare  passing  no- 
tice, and  wonders  why  Pericles  was  brought  in  delivering  the 
famous  speech  we  have  just  mentioned  with  honor.  He  even 
ventures  on  an  attempt  to  show,  by  examples,  how  much  the 
work  would  have  been  improved  had  his  judgment  been  con- 
sulted in  the  composition  of  it.  Then  the  syle  and  diction  are 
very  faulty,  full  of  poetical  locutions,  long  and  obscure  sentences 
and  hyperbolical  exaggeration.  It  is  not  for  us  to  imitate  the 
example  of  Dionysius,  by  affecting  to  refute  his  objections  in 
points  of  merely  verbal  criticism.  We  shall  not  dispute  with  a 
Greek  about  c^^ara  and  p^ara.  It  is  enough  for  us  that,  in 
this  attack  upon  the  reputation  of  "the  first  of  historians,"  as  he 
admits  he  is  considered,  he  feels  himself  constrained  to  do,  hom- 
age to  public  opinion,  by  a  formal  apology  for  the  boldness  of 
his  strictures;  that  he  fully  admits  the  excellencies  that  consti- 
tute, in  our  judgment,  the  superiority  of  Thucydides  over  all  his 
rivals  ;  and  that,  especially,  he  ascribes  to  him  the  honor  of  hav- 

*  L.  viii.  64-5. 

t  Judicium  de  Thucyd.  Hist. 

[tCf.  Lueian  quonmdosit  conscribenda  historia.J 


388  CONSTITUTIONAL  HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 

ing  first,  with  the  single  exception  of  Herodotus,  and  to  a  much 
higher  degree  even  than  that  writer,  infused  into  Greek  prose 
that  vigor,  earnestness,  and  elevation,  which  are  described  by  the 
familiar  and  expressive,  but  untranslatable  word,  dewr^.*  It 
was  to  acquire  this  lofty  and  powerful  style  that  Demosthenes 
himself,  the  only  rival  of  his  great  model,  copied  out  with  his 
own  hand,  according  to  the  tradition,  this  whole  history  eight 
different  times;  and  Marcellinus  well  remarks,  in  regard  to  the 
cavils  of  Dionysius,  that  to  find  fault  with  Thucydides,  because 
his  mode  of  expression  is  not  altogether  popular  and  simple,  is 
to  forget  that  commanding  powers,  and  a  strongly  marked  indi- 
viduality, never  fail  to  manifest  themselves  in  the  form  of  speech 
as  ill  every  thing  else.  Le  style  c'est  Phomme.  The  critic  in 
question  does  not  affect  to  dispute,  nay,  he  highly  extols,  the  his- 
torian's pre-eminent  abilities  as  a  painter  of  the  passions,  and  of 
the  tragical  events  best  fitted  to  excite  them  ;  and  we  will  take 
it  upon  us  to  affirm  that  some  of  his  descriptions  have  never 
been  surpassed,  if  (depth  of  pathos,  as  well  as  picturesque  effect, 
being  taken  into  the  account)  they  have  ever  been  equalled  in 
literature — Livy  himself  not  excepted.  It  will  be  enough  to 
mention  the  famous  account  of  the  plague,  so  often  imitated 
since — and  that  of  the  departure  of  the  great  armament  for  the 
invasion  of  Sicily:  and  the  cruel  catastrophe  of  the  expedition  in 
the  capture  and  destruction  of  the  whole  army.  Indeed,  the  se- 
venth book  is,  throughout,  one  deep  and  tragical  romance,  of  an 
absorbing  and  agitating  interest,  which  fiction  (in  prose  at  least) 
has  yet  to  rival. 

Our  special  admiration  for  the  greatest  of  historians,  has  led 
us  to  dwell  longer  upon  Thucydides  than  it  was  our  purpose  to 
have  done,  but  the  extent  of  our  remarks  is  any  thing  but  dis- 
proportionate to  the  importance  of  his  work  to  the  student  of  the 
constitutional  history  of  Greece.  Yet,  as  we  have  already  ob- 
served, we  have  many  other  and  most  copious  sources  to  draw 
from  for  the  same  purpose,  and  the  philosophers,  especially  those 
more  familiarly  known  among  the  moderns,  abound  in  informa- 
tion of  the  most  valuable  kind  in  relation  to  the  politics,  practical 
and  speculative,  of  their  country.  What  with  the  progress  of 
literary  tastes  and  pursuits,  and  what  with  the  daily  increasing 
troubles  and  disorders  of  all  sorts,  that  made  public  life  more  and 
more  insupportable  to  people  of  sensitive  tempers  and  quiet  hab- 
its, a  class  was  gradually  formed  that  had  not,  hitherto,  had  a  se- 
parate existence  in  the  first  of  those  commonwealths.  Persons 
of  the  highest  intelligence  withdrew  almost  entirely  from  politics 
to  devote  themselves  to  a  life  of  ease  and  contemplation.     But  in 

*  Ibid.  c.  23. — ojSs  to  sppwjxsvov  xa»  svayuvw  irvs\j\).a  sg  wv  r\  xaXoujmevy) 
tfeivo<r»j£,  rfXriv  kvog  4H^o«5oVou. 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ATHENS.  389 

retiring  as  far  as  possible  from  the  reach  and  the  roar  of  that 
"savage  wild  beast,"  (such  is  the  very  language  of  Plato,)  the  ty- 
rannical and  passionate  Demus,  to  dream  of  a  more  perfect  social 
state,  and  to  feed  their  minds  with  visions  of  the  good  and  the 
beautiful  in  their  ideal  purity,  these  gifted  spirits  became,  per- 
haps, only  the  better  observers,  for  being  spectators  rather  than 
actors  in  the  scenes  of  corruption  and  uproar  that  followed  one 
another  almost  without  intermission,  until  the  last  sparks  of  lib- 
erty were  quenched  by  Antipater  in  the  blood  of  Demosthenes, 
and  by  the  populace  in  that  of  Phocion.  They  never  were  far 
enough  removed  from  the  theatre  of  these  events  to  lose  all  per- 
sonal interest  in  them,  as,  indeed,  who  could  be  that  was,  in  any 
manner,  member  of  a  community  formed  on  such  principles  as 
were  universally  received  in  antiquity  ?  Accordingly,  we  find 
that  Socrates  professedly  strove  to  act  on  public  opinion,  and  gave 
his  whole  philosophy  a  practical  turn.  It  was  his  boast,  that  he 
had  brought  down  the  thoughts  of  the  contemplative,  from  the 
stars  and  the  elements,  from  cosmogony  and  meteorology,  to  man 
and  his  morals.  The  individual,  the  family,  the  state,  and  the 
relations  they  -mutually  bore  to  one  another,  now  attracted  their 
attention  to  the  disparagement  of  the  inquiries  which  had  ren- 
dered the  old  school  so  famous,  not  to  speak  of  the  perpetual  war 
they  waged  with  the  logical  subtleties  of  the  later  sophists. 

Now,  it  is  a  most  remarkable  fact,  that,  among  these  philoso- 
phers, not  one  (so  far  as  we  know)  is  to  be  found  but  holds  the 
democracy  of  Athens  as  it  existed,  in  a  degenerate  state,  at  that 
time,  and  democracy  in  general,  in  its  unlimited  or  extreme 
form,*  in  utter  horror  and  detestation.  This  is  true,  indeed,  of 
all  Greek  writers  of  every  class,  with  scarcely  an  exception,  as 
we  saw  just  now  in  reference  to  its  panegyrist,  Isocrates.  But, 
of  course,  the  opinion  is  more  apt  to  be  pronounced  by  those  who 
had  leisure  to  speculate  upon  the  causes  of  the  evils  they  wit- 
nessed and  experienced,  and  upon  the  remedies  by  which  they 
might  be  corrected. 

Many  English  writers  of  the  last  century  have  cited  with 
complacency,  as  a  high  compliment  to  their  own  constitution,  a 
well  known  passage  of  Tacitus,  in  regard  to  mixed  governments, 
and  others  from  Polybius  to  the  same  effect,  as  if  it  were  very 
strange  that  such  things  should  creep  into  the  books  where  they 
are  found.  The  truth  is,  however,  that  so  far  from  being  at  all 
singular,  they  are  only  the  expression  of  an  opinion  universal 
among   the   educated  people   of  antiquity .t     One's  reading   in 

**j  TsXsvraia  o^jxox^arja. — Aristot.  Polit.  passim. 

f  Plato  calls  all  the  simple  forms  fcufiureicu — Leg.  VIII.  832,  and  Polybius 
treats  the  governments  of  Athens  and  Thebes  as  no  governments  at  all. — 1.  VI.  8 
— 11.  As  to  Aristotle,  see  his  Politics,  passim.  There  is  a  passage  about  a  mix- 
ed constitution  in  Cic.  de  Rep.  1.  III.,  XIV.,  which  is,  in  our  opinion,  the  very 


390  -CONSTITUTIONAL  HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 

their  philosophy  must  be  extremely  limited  not  to  know  this. 
It  is  impossible,  for  instance,  to  open  Plutarch's  voluminous 
works  without  seeing  it.  It  is  only  in  professed  panegyrics, 
composed  for  occasions  of  mere  parade  and  festivity,  and  expres- 
sing nobody's  convictions,*  that  we  hear  of  any  thing  like  ap- 
probation, much  less  praise,  of  the  actual  constitution  of  Athens. 
Of  that  constitution,  as  it  was  instituted  by  Solon,  and  re-es- 
tablished after  the  fall  of  the  Peisistratides,  with  some  alterations 
by  Cleisthenes,  some  of  them  do,  indeed,  speak  with  a  melan- 
choly satisfaction.  But,  democratic  as  it  was  thought,  at  first, 
the  demagogues  of  later  times  found  it  a  sheer  aristocracy,  and 
none  could  do  it  homage  in  those  times,  without  passing  for  an 
oligarchist  and  a  "Philo-Lacon,"  or  partisan  of  Sparta.  Nor, 
indeed,  are  we  to  wonder  at  this,  for,  besides  the  important  func- 
tions and  authority  of  the  Areopagust  under  it,+  the  spirit  of  an 
earlier  age  breathed  in  every  part  of  it,  and  imparted  to  it  much 
too  high  a  tone  for  those  whose  policy  it  was  to  degrade  and 
sink  the  popular  mind  to  the  level  of  their  own  low  profligacy, 
and  base  envy  of  whatever  deserved  to  be  held  in  honor  and 
reverence.  Professor  Wachsmuth  has  clearly  perceived  and  re- 
peatedly states  this  important  truth.  He  affirms,  (v.  I,  p.  272,  3,) 
that  the  ancient  aristocracy  of  the  noble  order  was  a  firmly 
established  form  of  constitution,  and  that  the  Grecian  Dermis  of 
the  early  times  never  clearly  conceived,  or  consequentially  devel- 
oped, the  principle,  that  the  supreme  power  was  the  indefeasible 
right  of  the  bulk  of  the  people.  He  remarks,  in  another  place, 
(v.  II.  p.  56,  7,)  that,  though  "the  constitution  which  Solon  had 
begun  to  render  democratic,  had  been  divested  of  various  still 
remaining  and  not  unimportant  aristocratic  ingredients,  it  was 
not  yet  entitled  to  the  appellation  of  pure  democracy."^  He  goes 
on  to  say,  "the  recognition  of  the  mob,  and  the  insolence  of  a 
seditious  populace,  were  alike  foreign  to  the  character  of  the  Athe- 
nian State,  which,  until  the  beginning  of  the  Peloponnesian  war, 
when  the  plague  swept  away  a  number  of  its  best  citizens,  and 
Pericles  amongst  the  number,  may  be  compared  to  a  body  direct- 
ed by  its  noblest  members,  to  whose  guidance  the  remainder 
yielded  ready  obedience." 

The  same  aristocratic  spirit,  therefore,  would  very  naturally 
display  itself  in  the  earliest  speculations   of  the  philosophers, 

best  account  we  have  ever  seen  of  its  genesis.  Gluum  alius,  alium  timet,  et  homo 
hominem  et  ordo  ordinem;  turn  quia  nemo  sibi  confidit,  quasi  pactio  fit  inter  pop- 
ulum  et  potentes,  etc.,  with  which  compare  Thucyd.  V.  89.  and  III.  11. — <ro  ih 
dvriVaXov  bsog 

*  Plato,  Menexen,  throughout,  for  the  contempt  of  Socrates  for  such  things. 

[f  Demosth.  Kara  A^tfro^ar.] 

:  Arist.  Pol.  V.  6. 

§  He  quotes  Plut.  Cimon.  15.,  who  speaks  of  the  "aristocracy  under  Cleis- 
thenes." 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ATHENS.  391 

even  had  there  been  nothing  (as  there  was  much  however)  in 
their  peculiar  tenets  and  way  of  thinking  to  predispose  them  to 
the  same  conclusions.  Accordingly,  Pythagoras  and  his  school 
were  as  much  celebrated  for  their  oligarchical  spirit  and  doctrines, 
as  for  their  mysticism  and  symbols,  or  their  faith  in  numbers  and 
music.  Their  legislation  and  their  fortunes  in  Magna  Grecia 
are  among  the  most  curious  passages  in  ancient  history.*  They 
treated  society  as  a  thing  of  measured  harmony  and  mathematical 
relations,  which  none  but  the  initiated  could  comprehend.!  They 
regarded  anarchy  as  the  greatest  of  all  moral  evils.  Plato  derived 
from  them  his  mysterious  reverence  for  order  and  subordination, 
and  his  ideas  of  distributive  justice,  which  he  has  wrought  up 
into  the  scheme  of  his  perfect  commonwealth.  They  looked 
upon  every  approach  to  arithmetical  equality,  or  what  we  call 
the  "democracy  of  numbers,"  as  a  violation  of  the  eternal  order 
of  the  universe,  and  aimed  by  all  their  legislation,  to  substitute 
for  it  the  "proportioned  equality"  of  Milton,  in  which  every  one 
should  obtain  that  to  which  he  was  fairly  entitled — 

And  if  not  equal  all,  yet  free, 
Equally  free ;  for  orders  and  degrees, 
Jar  not  with  liberty,  but  well  consist. — P.  L.  V. 

•  Socrates,  and  all  his  disciples,  held  the  same  heretical  tenets. 
He  lost  his  own  life  on  a  charge  of  atheism,  but  that  was  a  cry 
raised  against  every  one  whom  the  sycophants  found  it  conve- 
nient to  discredit  with  the  mob.  We  have  it,  on  excellent  author- 
ity^ that  what  really  led  the  people  to  perpetrate  that  most  wan- 
ton and  atrocious  murder§  was  his  political  connections,  and  the 
part  he  had  had  in  the  education  of  Critias  and  Alcibiades,  two 
of  his  most  prominent  pupils,  into  whom  he  was  supposed  to 
have  instilled  that  contempt  of  the  multitude,  which  the  one 
displayed  in  the  most  cruel  excesses  as  chief  of  the  XXX  Ty- 
rants, and  the  other  in  the  whole  course  of  his  heartless,  profli- 
gate, and  detestable  career,  and  then  most  when  he  gulled  the 
Dermis  with  the  loudest  professions  of  love  for  it,  and  the 
broadest  hypocritical  grimace  as  its  courtier  and  parasite.  The 
writer  of  the  dialogues,  ascribed  to  the  Socratic  iEschines,  has 
not  overlooked  this  characteristic  of  the  school. II  If  the  dis- 
courses put  into  the  mouth  of  Socrates,  by  his  two  most  celebra- 
ted disciples,  Plato  and  Xenophon,  are  to  be  taken  either  as  true 

[*  Plutarch  de  Geuio.  Socrat.  13.] 

t  See  Jamblich.  Vit  Pythagor.  c.  27.  (130)  of  the  unintelligible  Stfirgirov, 
borrowed,  as  he  says,  from  Pythagorus  by  Plato.  And,  on  the  whole  subject, 
compare  with  Jamblichus,  Porphyry  Vit.  Pythagoras,  and  the  Anonymous  Biog- 
rapher in  Photius— printed  together,  Amstelodami,  1707 

X  iEschines.  Athenasus  says  (L.  XIII.  c.  92.)  it  was  for  making  an  impertinent 
discourse  about  justice  before  a  bench  of  judges  who  were  arrant  thieves. 

[$  .Esch.  C.  Tim.  X6'.] 

II  See  the  3d  Dialogue  de  Morte,  c.  c.  12,  13. 


392  CONSTITUTIONAL  HISTORY  OP  GREECE. 

reports  or  as  probable  fictions,  the  sovereign  people  had  the  best 
reason  in  the  world  to  regard  him  as  their  enemy,  although 
preaching  all  his  life,  and  practising  in  his  death,  the  most  un- 
limited obedience  to  their  declared  will.*  It  is  impossible  to 
paint  a  more  terrific  picture  of  a  lawless,  reckless, — despotic  de- 
mocracy, than  the  former  has  left  us  in  his  political  dialogues, 
such  as  the  Republic  and  the  Laws.  His  most  vivid  imagery, 
his  most  eloquent  invective,  are  exhausted  upon  it ;  and  his 
own  ideal  commonwealth  is  cut  out  altogether,  as  we  have  seen 
on  the  Pythagorean  system,  or,  what  seems  to  have  been  very 
much  the  same  thing,  the  old  Dorian  plan  of  a  permanent  dis- 
tinction of  classes,  approaching  to  castes,  and  a  rigid  discipline 
extending  to  all  the  interests  and  pursuits,  private  as  well  as  pub- 
lic, of  life. 

Xenophon,  the  rival  of  Plato,  and  usually  very  little  inclined 
to  agree  with  him.  goes,  in  his  hostility  to  the  then  existing 
constitution  of  Athens,  to  still  greater  lengths.  His  works  are 
very  various,  and  show  him  to  have  been  equally  versed  in  the 
most  sublime  speculations,  and  in  the  smallest  minutiae  of  prac- 
tical life.  Among  other  things  of  the  kind,  he  has  left  a  treatise 
de  Re  Equestri.  in  which  he  gives  precepts  for  the  keeping  and 
training  of  horses,  that  Paul  Louis  Courier,  in  every  respect  a 
most  competent  judge,  has  thought  fit  to  translate,  for  the  bene- 
fit of  modern  grooms  and  jockeys.  His  diversified  experience, 
added  to  his  theoretical  studies,  the  truly  attic  simplicity  and 
clearness  of  his  style,  and  his  entire  freedom  from  all  approach 
to  exaggeration  either  in  thought  or  expression,  should  seem  to 
recommend  his  judgment  (whatever  we  may  think  of  the  vigor 
and  originality  of  his  genius)  to  our  special  respect.  His  politi- 
cal opinions  are  not  to  be  sought  for  in  his  Greek  history,  a  con- 
tinuation, as  we  have  seen,  of  Thucydides,  which  has  always 
appeared  to  us,  in  spite  of  its  reputation  among  the  ancients,  a 
most  superficial  and  unsatisfactory  book,  and  in  regard  to  which 
we  are  glad  to  be  kept  in  countenance  by  Professor  Wachsmuth's 
very  decided  opinion  to  the  same  effect.!  But  his  numerous 
philosophical  treatises  abound  in  discussions  of  political  interests 
and  principles.  They  leave  no  room  for  doubt  as  to  his  creed 
or  his  party,  and  we  find  him,  accordingly,  out-heroding  Herod, 
that  is,  as  we  have  said,  exceeding  Plato  himself  in  decrying  the 
democracy  of  his  day.  It  may  be,  that  his  habits  as  a  soldier  of 
fortune,  disposed  him  to  prefer  the  most  simple  form  of  author- 
ity, and  to  look  upon  the  total  want  of  discipline  that  appeared 
in  the  wild  impulses  and  disorderly  conduct  of  the  mass  as  mere 
anarchy.  It  may  be  that  his  Lacedaemonian  connections,  and 
his  admiration  for  Agesilaus,  confirmed  him  in  his  anti-democra- 
tic inclinations.     Certainly,  to  a  true  Spartan  of  the  old  school,  a 

*  See  the  Crito.  f  Vol.  II.  p.  265. 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ATHENS,  393 

visit  to  Athens  at  that  epoch,  must  have  been  like  a  peep  into 
Chaos,  and  Xenophon  probably  thought  and  felt  like  such  a 
Spartan. 

Whatever  was  the  cause,  certain  is  it,  that  the  Demus,  at 
whose  hands  (like  almost  every  man  of  any  distinction)  he  suf- 
fered banishment  at  least,  received  no  quarter  at  his.  Professor 
Wachsmuth  is  disposed,  on  this  account,  to  consider  him  as  a 
prejudiced  witness.  Yet,  judging  him  by  what  so  many  other 
writers  have  said  upon  the  same  subject,  and  allowing  him  the 
benefit  of  the  indulgence  extended,  as  we  have  seen,  by  that 
learned  person  to  the  fault-finding  Theopompus,  Xenophon  may 
claim  to  have  spoken  no  more  than  the  truth,  of  what  he  actual- 
ly saw  and  suffered  in  the  daily  course  of  things  at  Athens.  We 
shall  presently  refer  to  the  testimony  of  the  orator  Lysias,  whose 
prepossessions  (if  he  had  any)  lay  all  the  other  way.  His  ora- 
tions afford  us  a  living  picture,  as  it  were,  of  what  passed  in  the 
ordinary  administration  of  justice,  if  that  sacred  name  may, 
without  profaning  it,  be  applied  to  a  tyranny  as  unscrupulous 
and  violent  as  any  thing  recorded  of  the  revolutionary  tribunals 
of  France,  and,  if  possible,  more  shameless  still.  In  the  midst  of 
the  familiar  occurrence  of  such  things,  for  example,  as  the  popu- 
lar phrenzy  about  the  mutilation  of  the  Hermae,  and  the  whole- 
sale massacres  to  which  it  led — of  the  barbarous  murder*  of  the 
generals  who  conquered  at  Arginusee,  and  who  were  rewarded 
for  one  of  the  greatest  naval  victories  of  antiquity  with  a  sentence 
without  a  trial,  and  an  ignominious  deatht — of  the  sacrifice  of 
Socrates,  in  mere  wantonness  of  arbitrary  power,  or  to  appease 
some  vulgar  clamor  for  his  blood — how  is  it  to  be  wondered  at 
that  these  writers  should  look  with  envy,  as  so  many  of  them  do, 
at  the  order  and  peace  enjoyed  at  Sparta,  under  the  reign  of  the 
law,  and  should  infer  that  there  was  something  radically  wrong 
in  the  constitution  of  a  society  exposed,  apparently  without  all 
hope  of  remedy,  to  a  sort  of  perpetual  reign  of  terror  ? 

Yet  Xenophon's  feelings  upon  this  subject,  however  strong, 
have  infused,  at  least,  no  rancor  or  acerbity  into  his  expression 
of  them.  He  betrays,  rather  than  declares  them,  in  his  prefer- 
ence for  Doric  manners  and  Spartan  character — in  the  evident 
complacency  with  which  he  paints  his  (imaginary  ?)  Cyrus,  the 
beau-ideal  of  an  absolute  monarch — and,  in  the  various  passages 
of  his  dialogues,  in  which  he  speaks  of  the  evils  of  the  existing 
democracy  as  of  things  of  course,  and  unquestionable  matters  of 

pin  consequence  of  this  Chabrias  stepped  the  pursuit  at  Naxos.  Diod.  Sic.  xv.] 
t  iEschines  (the  pseudo-Socratic)  says  they  had  only  two  voices  out  of  thirty 
thousand:  De  Morte,  c.  12.  For  the  heroic  conduct  of  Socrates,  on  that  occa- 
sion, see  Xenoph.  Hellenic.  1.  7.  But  a  better  account  than  Xenophon's  of  that 
most  revolting  judicial  murder,  is  to  be  found  (where  one  might  hardly  expect  it) 
in  Diod.  Siculus,  1.  XIII.  c.  104.  There  is  nothing,  in  all  history,  more  sublime 
than  the  conduct,  on  that  occasion,  of  Diomedon,  one  of  the  accused, 
vol.  i. — 50 


394  CONSTITUTIONAL  HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 

fact.  In  one  of  his  works — a  treatise  professedly  dedicated  to  a 
defence  of  the  Demus  against  some  of  the  more  specious  objec- 
tions of  its  enemies— he  does  indulge,  it  must  be  owned,  in  a 
vein  of  mischevous  irony  worthy  of  Swift.  This  work  has  been 
denied  by  some,  perhaps,  most  recent  critics,  to  be  Xenophon's — 
but  there  is  nothing  but  conjectural  evidence  to  show  the  con- 
trary, and  Bockh  declares  for  himself  that  he  considers  the  argu- 
ment on  that  side  as  inconclusive.*  Certainly  the  author's  hos- 
tility to  the  existing  democracy  is  no  proof  of  its  spuriousness, 
for  passages  may  be  cited  from  the  Economics,  or  (if  that  too  is 
questioned)  from  the  Convivium,  as  bad  as  any  thing  in  this  es- 
say, and  if  a  more  minute  criticism  should  incline  us  to  think  it 
the  production  of  a  later  hand,  we  shall  be  obliged  to  confess  it 
is  a  very  probable  figment,  and  in  spirit  and  opinions,  if  not  in 
style,  bears  a  strong  family  likeness  to  the  genuine  offspring  of 
Xenophon's  pen.  It  is.  as  we  have  said,  a  piece  of  ultra-Socra- 
tic  irony.  It  enumerates,  one  by  one,  the  principal  abuses  of  the 
system  of  demagogy,  which,  at  that  time,  rendered  the  very 
name  of  popular  government  odious,  as  we  have  seen,  to  people 
of  sense  and  education.  He  admits  them  to  exist,  and  in  the 
worst  form,  but  affects  to  justify  them  as  essential  to  the  very  be- 
ing of  democracy  itself.  If  he  is  told  that  such  things  are  in- 
consistent with  every  idea  of  good  government  and  social  order, 
he  answers,  that  nothing  is  more  possible — he  does  not  pretend 
to  dispute  it — he  is  not  discoursing  about  forms  of  polity  in  the 
abstract,  and  their  relative  virtues  and  advantages,  neither  does 
he  profess  to  find  realized,  in  that,  his  own  idea  of  a  perfect  com- 
monwealth. What  he  undertakes  to  show  is  that  the  imperfec- 
tions imputed  to  the  democracy  are  inherent  in  its  nature,  and 
inseparable  from  it — that  they  who  desire  it  as  an  end,  must 
consent  to  the  use  of  the  necessary  means — that  the  Athenian 
Demus  is  not  what  it  is,  the  most  detestable  and  licentious  of  all 
perversions  of  society,  by  any  accident  or  disturbing  causes,  but 
by  design  and  on  system,  with  a  perfect  consciousness  of  its  own 
objects,  and  a  policy  profoundly  calculated  to  attain  them. 

In  reading  this  piece,  one  is  continually  reminded  of  Machia- 
velli's  P?incipe,  except  that  the  mob  of  Athens  take  the  place 
of  his  heroes  and  models,  such  as  Borgia  and  Castruccio — and 
except,  too,  the  irony.  The  Italian  had  a  taste  for  what  he 
recommends  as  medicine — Xenophon  sickens  while  he  prescribes, 
and  desires  and  means  that  his  patient  should  reject  the  loath- 
some potion.     Some  passages  of  the  treatiset  are  quite  curious 

•  Pub.  Econ.  of  Athens,  v.  I.  p.  G2.  n.  (transl.)  Wachsmuth,  also,  quotes  with- 
out questioning  it.     [But  see  Hist.  Antiq.  &c.  v.  2.  p.  201.  lb.  p.  344.  §  77.] 

[f  vaucr  on  xa'hsXxsiv  <r<?  icivr\ri  usv  doxel' 

rolg  KXootf'mg,  Ss  xai  ysupvoig  ou  8oxh.     Aristoph.  Ecclesia.  197. 
Cf.  Pax.  610—503.] 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ATHENS.  395 

enough  to  be  worth  extracting  for  the  benefit  of  our  readers,  if 
we  had  the  space  necessary  to  do  them  justice.  As  it  is,  we 
must  content  ourselves  with  remarking  that  the  general  drift  of 
the  author  is  to  show  that  the  demagogues  of  the  day  taught  a 
people  intoxicated  with  arbitrary  power,  and  impatient  of  all 
restraint,  as  careless  of  every  obligation,  to  live  like  a  nest  of 
Barbary  pirates  on  the  plunder  of  every  thing  around  them — 
that,  like  other  spoilers,  they  regarded  the  commonwealth  itself 
as  "lawful  prize" — that,  instead  of  governing  their  foreign  de- 
pendencies with  a  view  to  their  own  benefit  and  that  of  the  state, 
which  would  naturally  flourish  by  their  prosperity,  and  strength- 
en with  their  strength,  they  were  laid  waste  by  oppressive  exac- 
tions to  supply  the  cravings  of  a  worthless  .populace — that  the 
rich  at  home  were  fleeced  in  the  same  manner  by  a  system  of 
unequal  taxation,  and  through  a  corrupt  administration  of  justice, 
while  their  estates  in  the  country  were  given  up,  without  defence, 
to  be  devastated  by  the  enemy  in  wars,  provoked  by  the  abuse 
of  their  maritime  power  in  the  hands  of  the  same  lawless  multi- 
tude— in  short,  that,  instead  of  a  government  of  laws  extending 
its  protection  to  all,  it  was  one  scene  of  violence  and  brigandage, 
in  which  the  physical  force  of  the  many  usurped  all  the  functions, 
only  to  violate  all  the  ends  of  civil  society,  and  the  revenues  of 
the  commonwealth  and  the  property  of  individuals,  were  alike 
treated  as  a  mere  fund  for  the  support  of  the  vicious,  the  profligate, 
and  the  idle.  In  other  works  of  Xenophon,  as  we  have  said, 
we  find  substantially  the  same  things  charged  to  the  people  of 
Athens.  In  his  Banquet  (c.  4.  29.)  he  represents  one  of  the 
interlocutors  of  the  dialogue  as  expatiating  upon  the  advantages 
of  poverty,  the  chief  of  which  was  its  perfect  independence.* 
Instead  of  trembling  for  its  own  safety,  it  bullied  others;  instead 
of  living  in  slavery,  it  was  free;  instead  of  paying  court,  it  was 
itself  flattered  and  caressed ;  instead  of  being  suspected  by  the 
country,  it  enjoyed  its  sympathy  and  confidence.  When  I  was 
rich,  he  adds,  I  fawned  upon  the  sycophants,t  in  whose  power 
I  continually  was.  I  was  fain  to  be  forever  spending  money  for 
the  public;  I  was  not  allowed  to  go  abroad ;  if  I  was  seen  with 
Socrates,  I  was  reprimanded  for  it — whereas  now  I  do  as  I  like, 
keep  what  company  I  choose,  I  am  courted  by  the  rich,  in  favor 
with  the  government,  a  tyrant,  not  a  slave;  and  instead  of  "pay- 
ing tribute  to  the  state,  the  state  pays  tribute  to  me,  and  makes 
me  a  sharer  in  its  revenues.*     In  another  of  his  works,§  Socrates 

[*  Cf.  facetos  versus  Antiphanis,  apud  Athenae  VI.  p.  103.] 

t  We  need  scarcely  say  this  word  meant,  at  that  time,  a  common  informer, 
that  is,  a  courtier  of  the  democracy,  whose  service  was  public  delation  and  prose- 
cution. 

\  Dionys.  Halicarn. — Deinarch.  /3'. — Aristoph.  Vesp.  G16.  seqq.  and  indeed 
passim.    I'll  have  you  enrolled  among  the  rich.  Id.  Equit.  920  seqq.  (says  Cleon.) 

§  Econom.  c.  2. 


396  CONSTITUTIONAL  HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 

boasts  that  with  a  fortune,  his  house  and  all  counted,  of  some 
five  minae,  (about  twenty  pounds  sterling,)  he  looked  upon  him- 
self as  a  much  richer  man  than  Critobulus  with  at  least  a  hun- 
dred times  as  much.  The  larger  estate  was  accompanied  with 
disproportionate  outgoings  in  lavish  expenditures  for  sacrifices , 
without  which  he  would  be  tolerated  by  neither  gods  nor  men — 
and  in  magnificent  hospitality,  in  feasting,  and  in  charity.  But 
besides  these,  he  enumerates  the  various  taxes  imposed  upon  the 
rich,  who  were  required  to  incur  immense  expenses  in  what  were 
called  the  Liturgies — that  is,  in  furnishing  the  funds  for  public 
festivals  and  entertainments,  choruses,  and  processions  in  time  of 
peace,  and  in  keeping  horses,  equipping  ships,  and  paying  extra- 
ordinary contributions  in  time  of  war.  And  the  worst  of  it  is, 
adds  he,  that  if  you  fall  short  of  what  is  expected  of  you  in  any 
of  these  things,  the  Athenians  punish  you  just  as  if  you  had  rob- 
bed them  of  what  was  theirs.  We  will  remark,  by  the  way,  that 
this  subject  of  Liturgies  and  taxation,  is  so  important  to  a  proper 
understanding  of  the  Public  Economy  of  Athens,  that  Bockh's 
admirable  illustrations  of  it  cannot  be  too  often  recommended  to 
the  attention  of  the  curious  reader.* 

It  is  manifest,  from  the  tone  of  their  works,  that  both  Plato 
and  Xeuophon  write  in  the  spirit  of  what  is  called  a  reaction. 
The  abuses  of  popular  government  which  they  daily  witnessed, 
had  disgusted  them  with  popular  government  itself.  This  is  the 
peculiar  evil  of  misrule  in  that  shape,  and  what  makes  the  de- 
magogue, whose  accursed  mission  it  is  to  seduce  and  debauch  a 
free  people,  and  to  fit  it,  by  vice,  for  bondage,  a  greater  scourge 
than  an  Attila  or  a  Gengis  Khan.  He  is  the  worst  enemy  of  the 
species,  because  he  destroys  the  foundation  of  its  best  hopes — its 
faith  in  itself. — The  usurper  may  be  dethroned,  the  conqueror 
may  be  overthrown,  but  to  what  purpose,  when  his  successor 
must  be  as  bad  as  he  ?t  Men  who  have  seen  the  most  cultivated 
and  enlightened  nations  led  or  driven  into  the  worst  crimes  by 
wretches  like  Oleon  or  Robespierre — who  have  seen  polished 
capitals,  like  Athens  or  Paris,  the  glory  of  the  earth,  seats  of  the 
highest  civilization,  and  filled  with  the  trophies  of  genius,  be- 
come theatres  of  horrors  worthy  only  of  the  most  savage  hordes, 
drenched  in  gore  by  a  banditti  of  Septembriseurs,  doing  murder 
in  broad  daylight,  or  delivered  up  to  the  hellish  orgies  of  mobs, 
made  cruel  by  suspicion,  or  drunk  with  blood — who  have  wit- 
nessed judicial  massacre  solemnly  perpetrated  in  the  name  of  the 
law,  and  decrees  of  flagrant  iniquity,  and  revolting  for  their  bar- 

[*  F.  A.  Wolf,  prolegomen  or  ieg.  Asirnv.  Belli  Peloponnesii  tempore  Trie- 
rarchos  naves  accepisse  de  publico  cedificatas,  nihilque  aliud  ab  ipsis  exactum 
esse  nisi  ut  naves  remigio  et  armamentis  instruerent  turenturque.  Ne  victum 
quid  aut  stipendium  Classiariis  dare  videtur  Trierarchus  debuisse.  &c.  Sed 
saepius  postea  mutatus  est  mos.  Vide  loc.  cit.  381,2.  Adde  quod  de  Antidosi 
docet.    lb.  [t  Aristoph.  Eq.  943—5.] 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ATHENS.  397 

barity,  sanctioned  by  the  votes  of  majorities,  made  up  of  mild 
and  merciful,  but  timid  and  feeble  men — who  have  heard  shouts 
of  liberty  uttered  by  multitudes,  subjugated  by  terror,  and  cring- 
ing before  the  idols  of  their  own  creation,  and  seen  (what  is  the 
infallible  consequence  of  such  excesses)  the  reptile  demagogue  a 
moment  before  "squat  like  a  toad"  at  the  ear  of  his  victim,  "start 
up  in  his  own  shape  the  fiend,"  and  stand  confessed  the  tyrant — 
such  men  must  not  be  too  sternly  judged,  and  may  even  be  pi- 
tied and  pardoned,  if  they  despair  of  the  fortunes  of  humanity. 
"Wo  to  the  world  because  of  such  offences,  but  wo  to  the  man 
by  whom  the  offence  cometh."  Plutarch,  in  his  life  of  Timo- 
leon,  relates,  that  the  people  of  Syracuse,  after  long  years  of  a 
most  disastrous  experience  of  this  connection  between  the  dema- 
gogue and  the  tyrant,  hated  at  last  the  very  sight  of  the  Bema 
and  the  Agora — the  stage  on  which  their  popular  leaders  had 
been  accustomed  to  play  off  their  impostures,  and  from  which 
so  many  of  them  (that  sterling  democrat,  the  elder  Dionysius,  for 
example,)  had  been  raised  to  despotic  power.  It  was  this  sort  of 
discouragement  that  possessed  the  minds  even  of  the  wisest  men 
of  Greece  at  the  period  referred  to.  The  language  they  uttered 
was  akin  to  the  affecting  apostrophe  of  Brutus  at  Philippi,  and 
their  last  hope  was  in  a  sort  of  political  millennium,  when  phi- 
losophy should  be  seated  upon  the  throne.  Thus  it  was,  that 
while  Xenophon  idealized  monarchical  despotism  in  the  Cyrope- 
dia,  Plato,  on  the  contrary,  sought  to  realize  his  dreams  of  a  per- 
fect social  state,  by  educating  the  younger  Dionysius  to  exercise 
power  according  to  the  principles  of  the  academy — a  sad  failure, 
compensated  by  his  brilliant  success  with  the  great  republican 
hero,  the  avenger  Dio. 

After  the  overthrow  of  the  democracy  at  Cheronea,  the  great- 
est thinker  of  antiquity  addressed  his  comprehensive  mind,  in 
the  full  maturity  of  his  experience,  to  the  subject  of  government, 
and  although,  as  we  have  stated,  one  of  his  two  political  works 
is  perished,  we  still  possess,  in  the  other,  a  treasure  of  which  it 
is  impossible  to  overrate  the  value. 

Aristotle  is  not  obnoxious  to  the  remark  we  have  just  made  in 
reference  to  Plato  and  Xenophon  as  having  written  recentibus 
odiis.  He  treats  that  in  a  spirit  as  severely  philosophical  as  any 
other  of  the  multifarious  subjects  of  his  all-searching  inquiries. 
There  is  no  more  reason  to  suspect  him  of  passion  or  partiality, 
in  regard  to  democracy  or  oligarchy,  than  in  his  Metaphysics  or 
his  Analytics,  his  Topics  or  his  Rhetoric.  He  gives  us  the  na- 
tural history  of  governments,  as  he  does  that  of  plants  or  ani- 
mals, and  seems  equally  above  his  matter  in  both.  A  thorough 
acquaintance  with  this  important  work,  we  hold  to  be  indispen- 
sable to  any  correct  knowledge  of  the  political  institutions  of  an- 
tiquity.    It  must  not  be  read  only,  but  made,  book  by  book,  and 


398  CONSTITUTIONAL  HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 

chapter  by  chapter,  the  subject  of  deep  study  and  meditation. 
There  is  nothing  superfluous  or  superficial  in  it ;  not  a  sentence 
but  is  full  of  thought  and  meaning,  expressed  always  concisely, 
sometimes  perhaps  abruptly,  never,  we  think,  obscurely.  We 
detect,  clearly,  the  want  of  this  critical  knowledge  of  the  work 
in  Mitford  and  other  writers  of  that  time,  and  on  the  other  hand, 
it  is  just  as  evident,  that  the  great  German  philologists  of  the 
present  day,  have  used  the  Politics  as  a  key  to  the  whole  civil 
history  of  Greece,  and  as  a  fixed  point  of  reference  in  all  their 
inquiries.  Niebuhr,  for  instance,  has  found  in  it  a  lamp  to  light 
his  path  in  the  darkness  of  Roman  antiquity,  which  he  has  so 
successfully  explored,  and  some  of  his  most  instructive  and  satis- 
factory views  are  but  generalizations  of  hints  and  principles  de- 
rived from  Aristotle.  We  would  point,  for  examples  of  this,  to 
the  use  he  has  made  in  regard  to  the  legislation  of  Servius  Tul- 
ilus,  of  what  the  Greek  philosopher  has  said  of  the  changes  effec- 
ted by  Cleisthenes  in  the  constitution  of  the  Attic  tribes.*  So  as 
to  the  comparative  inefficiency  of  the  j)lebs  in  the  co??iitia  of 
Rome,  because  residing  on  their  farms  at  a  distance,  their  atten- 
dance in  those  assemblies  was  inconvenient  and  irregular.  Both 
the  authors  at  the  head  of  this  article  (as  we  have  already  had 
occasion  to  remark  of  Mr.  Hermann,)  have  drawn  continually, 
and.  with  the  greatest  advantage,  upon  the  same  copious  fund. 
What  is  most  remarkable,  however,  in  this  great  work,  is  its 
spirit,  and  the  general  conclusion  to  which,  when  fairly  interpre- 
ted, it  clearly  leads.  We  have  said  that  Aristotle  is  exempt  from 
all  passion  or  prejudice,  on  the  subject  of  popular  government. 
He  had  studied,  for  twenty  years  together,  under  Plato,  in  the 
academy,  and  left  Athens  a  mature  man  of  thirty-seven.  But  a 
part  of  his  life  had  been  passed  in  a  very  different  station.  He 
was  employed,  as  every  body  knows,  by  the  victor  of  Cheronea, 
to  "teach  great  Alexander  to  subdue  the  world."  He  was,  for 
many  years,  therefore,  an  inmate  of  a  court,  such  as  it  was,  and 
if  we  are  to  receive  the  description,  Demosthenes  has  left  us,  of 
Philip's  manner  of  living,  as  any  thing  but  the  grossest  carica- 
ture, there  was,  surely,  nothing  in  that  court  to  captivate  or  daz- 
zle any  body,  and  least  of  all,  such  a  mind  as  the  Stagirite's.t 
He  might  have  learned  there  the  truth  he  teaches,  that  "despo- 
tism is  apt  to  love  low  company."  He  had  seen  at  once  the  frail 
and  feverish  being  of  the  democracy,  with  its  odious  demagogi- 
cal tyranny,  and  its  wild  delirious  transports,  extinguished  with 
ease,  by  a  coarse  but  compact  military  power,  and  "young  Am- 
nion" turned  loose  to  scourge  mankind  and  to  forget  himself,  and 
his  philosophy,  and  his  native  land,  in  the  vice  and  debauchery, 

*  Arist.  Pol.  VI.  4.  cf.  VII.  9.     So  as  to  the  remark  that  confiscations  and  for- 
feitures ought  to  be  consecrated  to  the  gods. 

[tSee  the  story  of  Pausanias.  Diod.  Sic.  xvi.  93.] 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ATHENS.  399 

the  swilled  insolence  and  barbaric  haughtiness  of  oriental  despo- 
tism. There  can  be  no  doubt,  we  should  think,  that  this  oppor- 
tunity of  comparing  what  he  saw  with  his  own  eyes,  of  democ- 
racy under  the  lead  of  such  men  as  Demades,  with  an  autocracy 
of  that  kind,  this  view  of  society,  passing  through  revolution  and 
conquest  from  one  extreme  to  another,  was  eminently  well  fitted 
not  only  to  inform  his  mind,  but  to  temper  it,  and  to  make  his 
judgment  as  cool  as  his  philosophy  was  profound,  penetrating, 
and  comprehensive.  It  was  just  such  a  discipline  as  public  opi- 
nion in  France  has  undergone  from  the  delirium  of  their  first 
enthusiasm  for  liberty,  and  their  scarcely  less  mad  lust  of  domi- 
nion under  a  military  despot,  to  an  inglorious  subjection  to  a  yoke 
fastened  upon  them  by  foreigners,  until,  sleeping  off  in  this  forced 
repose  the  fumes  of  their  double  intoxication,  they  have  been 
brought  at  length  to  think  seriously  of  the  necessity  and  the  ad- 
vantages of  a  juste  milieu. 

But  whatever  effect  this  instructive  experience  may  have  had 
in  counteracting  or  correcting  the  disgust  naturally  inspired  by 
the  vices  and  excesses  of  the  degenerate  democracy  of  Athens,  no 
unprejudiced -man,  it  appears  to  us,  can  read,  with  proper  atten- 
tion, the  whole  context  of  Aristotle's  Politics,  without  coming  to 
the  conclusion  that  the  best  form  of  government,  in  his  opinion, 
is  a  well  tempered  popular  constitution,  or  at  least,  a  constitution 
in  which  the  popular  element  was  very  strong  and  active.  He 
does  not,  like  Plato  and  Xenophon,  when  he  speaks  of  a  perfect 
commonwealth,  imagine  the  reign  of  a  patriot  king.  Neither 
does  he  entertain  that  extravagant  admiration  for  the  Doric 
model,  especially  the  institutions  of  Lycurgus,  for  which  they 
are  distinguished.  One  of  the  most  striking  parts  of  his  work, 
is  his  examination  of  the  ideal  republic  of  Plato,  which,  in  many 
points,  such  as  the  community*  of  wives  and  the  education  of 
women,  was  a  copy  of  those  institutions.  He  seems  to  have  had 
some  faith  in  the  people,  so  far  as  that  word  was  applicable  at 
all  to  the  condition  of  ancient  society,  that  is,  in  communities 
made  up  of  some  distinguished  race — in  the  calm  judgment  of 
masses — in  the  common  sense  of  mankind  deliberately  expressed 
and  fairly  collected  under  forms  calculated  to  check  power,  to 
repress  passion,  and  to  give  time  for  discussion  and  reflection. 
A  government  so  well  ordered  as  to  deserve  the  name  of  a  polity 
par  excellence,  (lioX{<rsja,)  was  distinguished  from  an  aristocracy 
(and  this  latter  word  implies  in  his  use  of  it  nothing  narrow  or 
oligarchical,)  by  leaning  more  to  the  side  of  the  many  than  of 
the  nobles.f     Nay,  it  was  even  a  more  popular  form  than  the 

[*  Not  precisely  sub-modo,'] 

t  L.  V.  c.  7.  So  where  all  are  eligible  to  office,  but  the  best  elected.  lb.  c.  8. 
Comp.  1.  IV.  15,  where  he  contrasts  a  government  oflaws  with  one  of  men;  and 
the  very  definition  of  polity.     III.  c.  7. 


400  CONSTITUTIONAL  HISTORY  OP  GREECE. 

constitution  of  Solon  and  Cleisthenes.  He  says  expressly,  that 
what  he  called  (in  conformity,  no  doubt,  to  general  usage)  by  that 
complimentary  name,  would  have  passed  iu  those  earlier  times  (so 
aristocratic  were  they)  for  a  government  of  the  many.  So,  he 
considers  a  system  in  which  the  people  delegate  their  high  pow- 
ers to  others,  as  an  aristocracy,  so  that  all  representative  govern- 
ment would  fall  within  that  category.  Another  fundamental 
principle,  on  which  he  repeatedly  insists,  is,  that  no  government 
not  founded  on  justice,  can  be  durable.  But,  then,  this  justice 
is  relative,  and  not  absolute,  in  its  nature,  and  to  be  determined, 
by  the  actual  condition  of  society,  and  the  opinion  of  mankind, 
one  age  requiring  that  a  greater  number  should  be  admitted  to 
take  part  in  public  affairs  than  another,  and  it  being  iu  all  cases 
important  to  interest  as  many  as  possible  in  the  preservation  of 
the  existing  order  of  things — a  combination,  be  it  remarked  by 
the  way,  of  the  historical  and  the  rational,  the  prescriptive  and 
the  positive,  worthy,  on  every  account,  of  particular  attention. 
Accordingly,  he  considers,  as  the  state  of  society  most  favorable 
for  free  governments,  that  in  which  the  whole  population  is  ho- 
mogeneous, all,  as  nearly  as  may  be,  on  a  footing  of  equality,  all 
in  comfortable  and  independent  circumstances  in  regard  to  estate 
and  the  majority  engaged  in  agricultural  and  other  rural  pursuits. 
Had  he  written  with  a  view  to  our  actual  condition  in  this  coun- 
try, he  could  not  have  described  more  perfectly  the  advantages 
we  enjoy  for  maintaining  social  order  and  equal  rights.  He  de- 
nounces all  inequality  as  a  never  failing  source  of  strife  and  sedi- 
tion. It  is  true,  this  equality,  like  the  justice  which  is  its  con- 
vertible term,  is  relative.  Mere  "arithmetical  equality"  he  re- 
gards as  a  violation  of  all  "distributive  justice,"  the  great  end  of 
civil  society.  A  system  by  which  the  voice  of  the  wise,  the  ex- 
perienced, and  the  good,  is  always  drowned  in  the  clamors  of  a 
majority,  composed  of  ignorant  and  violent  men,  he  thought  the 
very  worst  sort  of  inequality,  and  thisj  as  we  shall  see  in  the  se- 
quel, was  the  common  voice  of  antiquity.*  This  would  be,  in 
fact,  only  an  oligarchy  turned  upside  down.  Tf,  says  he,  the  ma- 
jority, being  possessed  of  estates  above  a  certain  amount,  should 
exclude  those  who  were  less  fortunate  from  any  share  in  public 
affairs,  though  the  few  were  shut  out  and  the  many  governed, 
nobody  would  call  that  democracy.  So,  where  the  majority,  be- 
ing without  fortune,  drive  the  better  sort  of  people  from  the  public 
service,  or  deprive  them  of  the  weight  and  the  influence  to  which 
they  are  fairly  entitled,  the  evil  is  precisely  the  same,  but  in  a 
more  aggravated  degree.  It  is  unjust,  and  cannot  last.  The 
government  he  considers  as  the  best  is  such  a  one  as  might  be 
variously  characterized  by  observers  according  to  their  systems, 

*  See  Plut.  Conviv.  VIII.  a.  II.  §  2,  3.  Id  de  Frater.  Amore  XII.  Arist.  VII.  3. 
14.  V.  9.  and  III.  7j  the  definition  of  a  polity  is  express. 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ATHENS.  401 

as  a  democracy  or  an  aristocracy — that  is  to  say,  a  well-balanced 
republic.  This  observation  was  afterwards  applied  by  Polybius 
to  the  constitution  of  Rome,  in  the  age  of  the  Scipios. 

This  leads  us  to  remark  that  another  fundamental  truth,  which 
lie  clearly  developes,  is  that  none  of  the  simple  forms  of  govern- 
ment could  be  good* — that  unlimited  power,  under  every  name 
and  every  shape,  is  equally  tyrannical,  and  produces  exactly  the 
same  effects  on  society,  or  effects  so  nearly  the  same,  that  the 
difference  is  scarcely  worth  the  trouble  of  a  choice  between 
them.  This  morbid  anatomy  of  governments  is  treated  with  an 
ability  as  impartial  as  it  is  masterly.  Tacitus  himself  has  not 
painted  despotic  monarchy  more  fearfully  after  nature.  Niebuhr 
speaks  of  the  devilish  spirit  of  the  ancient  oligarchy,  and  cites 
a  passage  of  the  Politics  to  prove  it.t  Aristotle  shows  that  all 
governments  perish  by  pushing  to  excess  their  peculiar  princi- 
ples— as  the  sin  that  most  easily  besets  them.  Thus,  in  demo- 
cracies, instead  of  leaning  to  the  side  (the  weaker  side)  of  law 
and  order,  the  profligate  men  who  made  politics  a  trade,  and  the 
commonwealth  a  spoil,  never  ceased  to  stir  up  the  envy  of  the 
multitude  against  the  rich,  until,  by  their  attacks  upon  property, 
or  by  other  wrongs,  the  upper  classes,  driven  to  desperation  flew 
to  arms,  and  civil  wars  and  military  despotism  followed  of  course. 
He  asks,  how  it  is  that  a  well  balanced  constitution  was  so  rarely 
to  be  met  with,  and  answers,  that  is  it  because  most  governments 
have  sprung  up  out  of  revolutions,  and  breathed  the  spirit  of 
the  revengeful  and  exterminating  passions  that  produced  them. 
They  were  "reactions,"  the  offspring  of  hate,  not  the  work  of 
reason,  and  presented  the  image  of  a  city  taken  by  storm,  rather 
than  of  a  polity  adopted  with  mature  deliberations,  by  the  com- 
mon counsels  for  the  common  good  of  a  community. 

Yet  sound  and  masculine  as  is  the  tone  of  Aristotle's  political 
philosophy,  he  paints  the  degenerate  democracy,  of  which  he 
had  so  many  opportunities  to  witness  the  excesses  both  when  a 
student  in  the  academy  and  as  a  professor  or  teacher  in  the  Ly- 
ceum on  his  return  to  Athens,  in  colors  not  at  all  less  sombre, 
though  less  highly  charged^  than  those  used  by  Plato  and  Xeno- 
phon.  Indeed,  without  the  experience  of  the  French  Revolution, 
as  Mitford  remarks,  it  would  be  difficult  for  a  modern  to  believe 
or  even  to  conceive,  the  possibility  of  such  horrors  as  appear, 
from  his  account,  to  have  occurred,  in  what  may  be  called  the 
daily  experience,  and  to  have  flowed  naturally  from  the  very  con- 
stitution of  those  turbulent  commonwealths.  And,  on  the  con- 
trary, the  Jacobins  might  have  learned  the  principles  of  their  ter- 
rific despotism  in  his  book.     We  do  not  think  we  can  convey 

*  The  better  tempered  the  government  the  better.     Pol.  IV.  12. — V.  i. 
t  Romisch.  Geschichte,  v.  11.  337,  8.     Der  namliche  Geist  der  Holle,  etc.     He 
quotes  Arist.  Pdl.  v.  9.  of  the  oath,  etc.,  a  passage  often  cited  since. 
VOL.  I. — 51 


402  CONSTITUTIONAL  HISTORY  OP  GREECE. 

to  our  readers  a  better  idea,  either  of  the  democracy  of  Athens, 
or  of  Aristotle's  manner  of  handling  the  subject,  than  by  trans- 
lating, as  closely  as  possible,  according  to  our  understanding  of 
them,  some  passages  from  his  work. 

The  first  of  these  is  one  wherein  he  speaks  of  a  democracy, 
in  which  the  only  law  is  the  will  of  the  majority  for  the  time  be- 
ing— a  government  of  decrees  of  the  popular  assembly  (^rj<p»0>a<ru). 
This,  he  adds,  is  generally  brought  about  by  the  demagogues, 
who  flourish  most  where  there  is  no  respect  for  the  laws,  since 
the  Demus  becomes,  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  an  absolute 
monarch,  one  compounded  of  many,  the  multitude  governing 
in  their  aggregate  or  corporate  capacity.  Such  a  Demus,  then, 
being  a  monarch,  will  rule  like  one,  will  be  controlled  by  no  law, 
will  play  the  despot,  and  surround  itself  with  flatterers.  Such 
a  democracy  is  precisely  the  counterpart  of  tyranny  in  mon- 
archies. Their  character  and  spirit  are  the  same ;  they  both 
oppress  the  better  sort  of  people  ;  votes  of  the  assembly  (pse- 
phismata)  are  in  the  one  case  what  edicts  are  in  the  other,  and 
the  demagogue  and  the  courtier  are  identical — both  of  them  ex- 
ercising a  pernicious  influence  over  their  sovereigns,  the  latter 
over  his  king  or  tyrant,  the  former  over  his  democracy.  These 
demagogues,  by  referring  every  thing  to  the  people,  and  causing 
them  to  interfere  with  every  department  of  public  affairs,  super- 
sede entirely  the  fundamental  laws  and  constitutions.  They 
find  their  own  importance,  of  course,  greatly  enhanced  by  a  sys- 
tem which  makes  the  capricious  will  of  the  sovereign  for  the 
time  being  the  only  law,  for  controlling,  as  they  do,  the  majori- 
ty, they  are  the  masters  of  that  will.  "He  cannot  be  said  to  pro- 
nounce too  harsh  a  judgment  who  affirms  that  a  democracy,  of 
this  sort,  is  no  regularly  constituted  government  (<7roXi<ma),  and, 
if  democracy,  properly  so  called,  is  such  a  government,  then 
this  is  no  democracy." — (1.  IV.  c.  3.) 

It  is  plain  that  the  demagogue,  under  such  a  system,  is  the 
most  absolute  of  all  masters,  and  may  say  with  Jack  Cade,  in 
the  chronicle,  that  "all  the  laws  of  the  realme  shall  come  foorthe 
of  his  mouthe." 

In  a  subsequent  passage,  speaking  of  the  supreme  judicial  pow- 
er as  being  exercised,  in  all  cases,  by  the  people,  he  says,  it  is  the 
system  of  the  then  actual  democracy,  which  he  pronounces  to 
be  exactly  analogous  to  a  "dynastic  oligarchy,  and  a  tyrannical 
monarchy."  (lb.  14.)  This  coincidence  between  monarchical 
and  democratic  tyranny  he  illustrates  more  than  once,  and 
shows  how  exactly  the  maxims  taught  by  Periander  of  Corinth, 
who  was  as  great  a  doctor  in  the  schools  of  arbitrary  power  as 
Machiavelli  himself,  apply  to  the  policy  of  such  a  corrupt  and 
monstrous  form  of  popular  government.  Divide  et  impera,  is 
the  maxim  of  both — to  awaken  jealousies  and  hatreds  between 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ATHENS.  403 

classes  and  individuals,  so  as  to  destroy  all  possibility  of  concert 
or  even  communications  between  them* — to  break  the  commu- 
nity in  two  by  a  permanent  division,  and  perpetual  war  between 
the  rich  and  the  poor,  the  town  and  the  country — to  surround 
every  one  with  spies,  to  arm  friend  against  friend,  to  watch  the 
most  secret  movements,  to  disturb  household  peace,  poison  the 
dearest  relations  of  life,  and  destroy  all  the  sweet  carelessness  of 
social  intercourse — to  discourage  and  depress  every  thing  dis- 
tinguished in  talent,  or  elevated  in  sentiment,  and  to  admit  to 
the  administration  of  public  affairs  only  the  weakest,  the  most 
worthless,  and  the  most  wicked  of  mankind — in  a  word,  syste- 
matically to  debase,  to  darken,  and  to  pervert  the  human  mind. 
Phocion  stood  towards  the  democracy  of  his  day  in  precisely  the 
same  relation  as  Thrasea  to  Nero,  and  Camille  Desmoulins,  in 
the  Vieux  Cordelier,  wrote  the  history  of  Robespierre  in  the  texts 
of  Tacitus. 

"We  see,  in  extreme  democracy,  every  thing  as  it  is  in  tyran- 
nies, wives  ruling  their  husbands,  whom  they  keep  in  perpetual 
fear  of  denunciation,  and  no  discipline  over  slaves  for  the  same 
reason — for  neither  slaves  nor  women  plot  against  tyrants,  and, 
having  every  reason  to  be  contented  with  their  lot,  they  are  par- 
tizans  or  tyrannies  and  democracies.  For  Demus  loves  to  play 
the  monarch,  and  accordingly  each  has  his  favorite  and  courtiers, 
the  democracy  its  demagogue,  and  the  tyrant  all  the  most  abject 
in  fawning  and  adulation,  which  is  the  business  of  a  courtier.  It 
is  for  this  reason  that  tyranny  loves  the  base  and  the  unprinci- 
pled, for  such  alone  will  flatter — the  good  love  without  adula- 
tion— and  so  all  tyrants  hate  every  thing  noble  or  free  in  spirit 
and  manners,"  etc.  (1.  v.  c.  11.) 

In  another  place,  after  showing,  by  numerous  examples,  how 
democracies  were  subverted  in  consequence  of  those  schemes  of 
confiscation  and  robbery  which  the  demagogues  were  perpetually 
setting  on  foot  against  the  rich,  he  proceeds  to  observe  that,  in 
earlier  times,  tyrannies  (in  the  Greek  sense)  were  more  frequent 
than  they  had  been  of  late,  and  he  explains  it  by  the  fact,  that 
in  those  times  the  demagogue  was  always,  at  the  same  time,  a 
general.  "Whereas,  now-a-days,  oratory  being  grown  into  an 
art  or  profession,  public  speakers  play  the  demagogue,  but,  having 
no  skill  in  war,  they  meddle,  except  in  some  very  rare  and  tri- 
fling occasions,  hardly  at  all  with  military  matters.  Tyrannies 
sprang  up  formerly  more  frequently  than  in  these  times,  both 
because  more  important  commands  were  confided  to  generals, 
and  because,  etc.  Their  leaders  easily  usurped  the  tyranny. 
All  did  this  who  had  the  confidence  of  the  Demus,  and  this 
confidence   was   gained   merely  by  professing  hostility  to  the 

*  Let  there  be  no  syssitia,  no  iraigsia,  etc.  v.  11.     Vide  supr&,  note. 


404  CONSTITUTIONAL  HISTORY  OP  GREECE. 

rich.  As  at  Athens,  Pisistratus  opposing  the  people  of  the  plain, 
and  Dionysius,  by  his  invectives  against  Daphnseus  and  the  rich 
was  invested  with  the  tyranny,  being  considered  as  a  good  de- 
mocrat for  no  reason  but  because  he  hated  them.  And  thus  it  is 
that  they  change  their  democracies  from  the  form  in  which  they 
were  handed  down  to  them  from  their  fathers  to  the  present 
fashion." 

Pisistratus  and  Dionysius  the  Tyrant !  In  this  passage  we 
have  the  testimony  of  Aristotle  to  a  truth  established  by  the 
whole  tenor  of  ancient  history,*  and  which  modern,  limited  as  it 
is  in  this  respect,  has  confirmed  and  will  forever  confirm.  The 
demagogue  is  the  tyrant  in  embryo.  To  say  that  he  is  in  de- 
mocracies what  the  courtier  is  to  the  despot,  the  cringing,  hypo- 
critical, parasitical  worshipper  of  power,  is  indeed  substantially 
saying  the  same  thing.  The  best  slave  is  almost  always  the 
worst  master. 

We  shall  close  these  abstracts  from  Aristotle  with  a  literal 
translation  of  some  important  remarks,  which  throw  great  light 
upon  the  internal  constitution  and  the  daily  practices  of  the  de- 
mocracies of  Greece.  (1.  VI.  c.  6.) 

The  true  friend  of  democracy  or  oligarchy  will  show  it  not  in 
contriving  that  his  institutions  shall  be  as  democratic  or  as  oli- 
garchical as  possible,  but  that  they  shall  endure  the  longest  pos- 
sible time.  Thus  the  demagogues,  now-a-days,  humoring  the 
caprices  of  the  Demus,  deal  in  wholesale  confiscation,  through 
the  decrees  of  courts  of  justice.  Therefore,  the  friends  of  that 
sort  of  polity  ought  to  counteract  them  by  passing  laws  prohibit- 
ing the  confiscation  to  public  use  of  property  forfeited  by  a  sen- 
tence of  a  court,  and  making  it  sacred  to  the  gods.  For  by  such 
a  provision,  criminals  will  not  be  less  deterred,  (since  they  will 
be  equally  punished,)  but  the  multitude,  (who  compose  the  judi- 
catories or  juries.)  will  be  less  inclined  to  convict,  when  they  are 
to  get  nothing  by  the  judgment.  So  care  ought  to  be  taken  to 
diminish  public  prosecutions  as  much  as  possible,  prohibiting, 
under  heavy  penalties,  the  instituting  them  without  probable 
cause,  for  they  are  wont  to  attack  in  this  way,  not  the  humbler 
sort,  but  people  of  the  upper  classes,  and  it  is  essential  that  all 
the  citizens  of  a  commonwealth  should  be  interested  in  its  pre- 
servation, orat  any  rate,  that  the  rulers,  whoever  they  are,  should 
not  be  looked  upon  as  enemies.  So  degenerate  democracies 
(al  rsXsvraTai)  are  very  populous,  and  it  is  hard  they  should  assist 
at  the  public  assembly  without  compensation,  and  this,  where 
the  revenues  are  scanty,  falls  upon  the  rich,  (for  a  fund  must  be 
raised  for  the  purpose,  by  extraordinary  contributions,  (ei<r<po£a,t) 
confiscations,  and  judicial  plunder,  which  have  subverted  many 

*  See  Dionys.  Halicaraass.     Rom.  Antiquit.  I.  VI.  and  VII.  passim, 
t  A  property  tax.     See  Bockh,  P.  E,  of  Athens,  II.  224. 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ATHENS.  405 

a  democracy,)  therefore  where  the  revenue  of  the  state  is  inade- 
quate, there  ought  to  be  but  lew  assemblies  held,  and  the  tribu- 
nals composed  of  many  judges  should  sit  but  a  few  days.  It 
would  also  conduce  to  reconcile  the  rich  to  the  expense,  if  peo- 
ple of  any  property  were  allowed  no  compensation  for  jury  ser- 
vice, (&xavixov)  but  only  the  poor,  and  at  the  same  time,  it  would 
cause  justice  to  be  better  administered.  Where  there  is  a  good 
revenue,  demagogues  should  not  be  allowed  to  do  as  they  now 
do ;  for  they  distribute  any  surplus  immediately  in  small  quanti- 
ties. The  consequence  is,  that  the  people  are  always  receiving 
and  always  in  want  of  more,  for  such  assistance  to  the  poor  is 
merely  pouring  into  a  cask  with  a  hole  in  the  bottom  of  it.  The 
truly  democratic  statesman  will  take  care,  beforehand,  that  the 
body  of  the  people  (irX^hg)  should  not  be  in  a  destitute  condition, 
for  this  is  the  great  source  of  trouble  and  abuse  in  democracies ; 
but  he  will  take  care  that  permanent  provision  be  made  for  them. 
Since  this  is  a  matter  of  concernment  to  the  rich  as  well  as  the 
poor,  distributions  of  surplus  revenue  ought  to  be  made  in  consi- 
derable quantities  at  once,  and  it  were  especially  desirable,  if 
enough  could  be  raked  together  to  buy  small  farms,  or,  if  not,  for 
providing  a  little  stock  for  commercial  or  agricultural  industry ; 
and  if  it  be  impracticable  to  give  to  all,  to  make  the  distribution 
by  tribes,  or  in  some  such  way,  collectively.  Meanwhile,  for  all 
necessary  meetings  of  the  people,  compensation  should  be  raised 
by  a  property  tax  on  the  rich,  releasing  them  from  vain  and  use- 
less liturgies.  It  is  by  such  a  system  that  the  Carthaginians 
keep  the  Demus  contented  Under  their  well  balanced  polity,  for 
they  are  continually  sending  some  of  the  poorer  sort  to  their 
neighboring  dependencies,  where  they  are  made  comfortable  and 
prosperous. 

The  same  testimony  as  to  the  character  and  conduct,  of  the 
democracy  of  Greece,  is  given  by  all  the  other  authorities  on 
whom  any  reliance  is  to  be  had.  We  shall  say  nothing  of  the 
comedies  of  Aristophanes  in  this  connection — not  that  we  think 
him  either  an  unimportant  or  an  exceptionable  witness.  We 
hold  them,  on  the  contrary,  to  be  an  essential  part  of  the  politi- 
cal history  of  Athens,  and  cheerfully  acknowledge  the  service 
rendered  to  science  by  M.  Wachsmuth,  in  his  just  and  exalted 
estimate  of  their  value  in  that  sense.  But  Aristophanes  is  too 
great  a  man  to  be  treated  as  he  deserves  in  the  narrow  space  al- 
lotted to  us  here.  We  shall  take  a  future  opportunity  of  expa- 
tiating at  large  upon  this  mighty  painter  of  men  in  masses,  and 
on  some  of  the  principal  groupes  and  figures  in  his  richly  fur- 
nished gallery.  Another  writer,  of  whom  we  should  have  to  say 
too  much  if  we  said  as  much  as  we  ought,  is  Plutarch.  His 
Lives  abound  in  matter  for  the  student  of  the  constitutional  his- 
tory of  Greece.     We  need  only  mention  the  names  of  Themisto- 


406  CONSTITUTIONAL  HISTORY  OP  GREECE. 

cles,  Aristides,  Cimon,  Phocion,  Demosthenes,  Dion,  Demetrius, 
Timoleon,  Aratus,  to  remind  the  reader  that  he  has  recorded  the 
services  of  most  of  the  great  men  whose  lives  were  an  era  in  his- 
tory, and  whose  achievements,  civil  and  military,  have  identified 
them  forever  with  their  times  and  their  country.  His  Nicias,  for 
instance,  is,  with  a  view  to  the  spirit  of  the  Demus,  a  perfect  stu- 
dy. The  principal  materials,  used  by  Plutarch  in  his  portraiture 
of  that  unfortunate  general,  are  indeed  drawn  from  Thucydides, 
whose  account  of  the  Sicilian  expedition  we  have  already  men- 
tioned as  an  unrivalled  narrative,  hut,  the  biographer,  in  the  ex- 
ercise of  his  peculiar  privileges,  has  added  touches  of  character, 
and  little  expressive  circumstances,  not  to  be  expected  in  a  gene- 
ral history.  You  are  made  familiar  with  that  poor  victim  of 
demagogy  and  superstition,  passing  his  whole  life  between  the 
dread  of  the  mob  and  the  fear  of  the  gods,  and  wasting  the  pro- 
duce of  his  large  fortune  in  perpetual  sacrifices  to  both — whose 
timidity,  in  Plutarch's  language,  was  as  sure  a  resource  to  the 
bad,  as  his  benevolence  was  to  the  good — so  anxious  about  the 
future  as  to  keep  a  prophet  of  his  own,  with  a  view  especially  to 
the  preservation  of  that  great  estate,  which  was  the  source  of  all 
his  troubles,  and  by  the  most  lavish  use  of  which,  in  popular 
largesses  and  princely  magnificence,  he  sought  to  propitiate  envy 
and  only  invited  aggression — grave,  domestic,  sober,  regular,  la- 
borious, retiring,  yet  continually  overwhelmed  with  public  affairs 
to  that  degree,  as  to  leave  himself  not  a  moment  for  serving,  or 
even  for  seeing,  his  most  intimate  friends — as  successful  in  the 
outset  as  he  was  unfortunate  in  the  close  of  his  career  ;  yet  seek- 
ing to  avoid  odium,  (his  evil  genius,)  by  ascribing  all  the  honor 
of  those  successes  to  the  gods,  and  suffering  the  demagogue 
Cleon,  to  reap  the  well-earned  fruits  of  his  ability  and  perseve- 
rance at  Pylus,  by  yielding  to  him  the  command  in  the  very  mo- 
ment of  victory — all  his  life,  the  slave  of  his  own  power,  a  sha- 
dow of  greatness,  "an  unreal  mockery"  of  state* — at  Syracuse 
refusing  to  withdraw  from  an  expedition  he  never  approved,  and 
then  become  utterly  hopeless,  because  he  feared  the  people  more 
than  the  enemy,  and  preferred  dying  by  the  hands  of  the  latter, 
"with  his  harness  on  his  back,"  to  being  judicially  murdered  by 
the  former  ;  and  when  he  had  at  length  resolved  to  seek  safety  in 
retreat,  prevented  from  effecting  his  purpose,  and  detained  for 
certain  destruction,  by  an  eclipse  of  the  moon. 

But  this  Life  is  not  merely  instructive  as  showing  the  charac- 
ter of  a  man,  whose  very  weaknesses,  especially  in  his  abject 
superstition,  were  perfectly  Athenian ;  the  biographer  has  been 

*  He  applied  to  himself,  says  Plutarch,  that  of  Agamemnon  : 

"tfpogasruv  tit  tou  (3iou 
Tov  oyxov  t'pcojxev,  tCj  <Y  o^Xoj  o>ou\sllo(asv.,,     c.  5. 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ATHENS.  407 

oven  more  than  usually  communicative  on  the  subject  of  the 
Demus  itself.  He  speaks  of  all  those  characteristics  that  made 
it  such  a  constant  object  of  dread  to  Nicias,  and,  in  general,  to 
the  rich  and  the  educated.  He  mentions  the  ostracism,  with  its 
origin  and  objects ;  he  tells  us  of  the  aversion  of  the  people  for 
great  talent,  which  it  used,  but  always  suspected,  hated,  and 
persecuted — and  of  its  especial  horror  of  philosophers,  and  their 
blasphemous  and  atheistical  babble  about  second  causes — as 
witness  the  fate  of  Anaxagoras.  We  have  there,  too,  a  portrait 
of  Cleon,  with  his  brazen  front  and  iron  lungs,  the  first  of  the 
demagogues,  who,  forgetting  the  dignity  and  decorum  of  Pericles 
and  the  older  orators,  ranted  furiously  and  moved  about  upon 
the  Bema — at  once  the  butt,  the  bully,  and  the  bubbler  (to  use  an 
expressive  old  word)  of  the  populace.  Neither  has  he  forgotten 
the  profligate,  policy  of  Alcibiades  and  Hyperbolus — nor  the  arts 
by  which  they  and  other  demagogues  controlled  public  opinion, 
and  created  constructive  majorities,  by  operating  upon  the  selfish 
hopes  and  fears  of  men,  and  by  artfully  turning  to  account  the 
silence  of  the  timid  and  the  scruples  of  the  wise,  and  speaking 
and  acting  for,  all  who  were  not  bold,  or  ready,  or  able,  or  know- 
ing enough  to  speak  or  act  for  themselves. 

The  orator,  or  rather,  rhetorician  Lysias,*  who  was  born  of 
Syracusan  parents,  at  Athens,  about  the  third  year  of  the  eighti- 
eth Olymp.  (A.  C.  459,)  and  lived  to  be  eighty,  is  a  most  precious 
witness  to  the  daily  practices  and  the  true  spirit  of  the  democra- 
cy, in  which  he  was  one  of  the  confessors  in  the  time  of  the 
XXX  Tyrants,  and  one  of  the  most  faithful  champions  always. 
Of  his  innumerable  orations,  written  in  a  style  which  has  ever 
been  celebrated  as  a  model  of  the  purest  Attic,  we  still  possess 
(supposing  them  to  be  all  genuine)  thirty-four.  Most  of  these 
were  composed  to  be  spoken  by  others  in  their  own  defence, 
according  to  the  practice  of  the  Athenian  courts.  They  are, 
therefore,  the  very  words  addressed  to  the  popular  tribunals  by 
an  experienced,  able,  and  most  successful  advocate,  whose  politi- 
cal orthodoxy  is  above  suspicion,  not  in  the  heat  of  extempora- 
neous discussion,  but  with  the  art  and  the  forecast  of  deliberate 
composition,  and  reveal,  as  perfectly  as  any  thing  can,  the  spirit 
and  character  of  their  judicature.  They  present,  accordingly, 
a  frightful  picture  of  judicial  tyranny.  Were  they  not  unques- 
tionably what  they  profess  to  be,  they  might  easily  be  taken  for 
irony,  far  more  pungent  even  than  Xenophon's  in  the  treatise 
referred  to  eibove.  The  topics  dwelt  upon  in  them  are  just  such 
as,  from  Aristotle's  account  of  the  structure  and  composition  of 
the  courts,  as  well  as  from  all  the  other  testimonies  cited,  might 
be  expected  to  be  urged.     We  see  that  even  Aristophanes  has 

[*  He  was  an  \dors\y\g.  Wolf  ad  Leptin.  363.  n.] 


dOS  CONSTITUTIONAL  HISTORY  OF  OREECE. 

exaggerated  in  nothing — but  the  masks  and  the  costume.  A 
people  to  whom  such  language  could  be  addressed,  we  do  not 
say  with  success,  but  without  exciting  the  deepest  indignation, 
were  no  better  than  a  horde  of  Usbecks  or  Algerines.  To  call 
such  a  system  of  open  plunder,  and  arbitrary,  iniquitous,  inquis- 
itorial despotism,  the  administration  of  justice,  were  blasphemy. 
They  had  lost  all  sense  of  justice,  all  moral  sense.  These  ora- 
tions are  an  everlasting  monument  of  their  dishonor ;  every 
topic  in  them  is  a  stain,  every  compliment  an  outrage,  every 
prayer*  a  curse.  Fouquier  Tinville  himself  would  not  have 
tolerated  such  language,  for  after  all,  your  high  Jacobin  was  a 
sentimentalist,  and  had  a  sort  of  decency  in  crime.  What  the 
orator  makes  his  client  say  in  one  of  these  pleadings  is  true  to 
the  letter.  The  demagogues  and  sycophants,  he  affirmed,  had 
led  the  democracy  into  a  course  of  conduct  identical  witli  that 
of  the  XXX  Tyrants,  one  of  whose  plans  for  raising  the  wind 
had  been  to  seize  some  twenty  or  thirty  of  the  rich  metics,  (or 
resident  foreigners.)  and  murder  them  judicially,  with  a  view  to 
the  forfeiture  of  their  estates.t  Lysias  and  his  brother  were 
among  the  victims  marked  out  by  these — the  latter  perished,  but 
the  orator  fled  to  the  patriot  standard  under  Thrasybulus,  and 
returned  with  the  exiles  in  triumph. 

In  these  pleadings,  the  court  is  always  addressed  as  those  who 
were  personally  interested  (as  they  indeed  were)  in  the  event  of 
the  cause,  and  had  the  largest  discretion  to  dispose  of  it  as  they 
should  judge  best  for  their  own  advantage.:}:  The  solemnity  of 
the  oath  prescribed  to  them,  the  supremacy  of  the  law,  so  indis- 
pensable to  what  ought  to  have  been  a  government  of  laws,  the 
responsibility  of  their  high  function,  the  vital  importance  to 
society  of  the  administration  of  justice,  which  Hume  affirms  to 
the  only  end  of  all  its  other  institutions,  however  complicated 
and  imposing — these  are  considerations  beneath  the  dignity  of 
a  sovereign,  that  would  bear  no  restraint,  and  was  bound  by  no 
obligation  and  no  duty.  The  Heliasts,  it  is  evident,  regarded 
themselves,  and  were  regarded  by  others,  not  as  a  court,  but  as 
a  commission — they  were  armed  with  all  the  powers  of  the 
assembly,  whom,  in  a  corrupt  practice,^  though  not  in  the  true 
theory  of  the  constitution,  they  represented,  and  their  judgment, 
like  a  vote  in  the  Ecclesia.  was  quod  postrermim  jussit  popuhis) 
and  the  supreme  law.  Their  decrees  were  without  appeal,  and 
a  former  acquittal  was  no  bar  to  another  action  or  indictment. 
Accordingly,  one  of  the  considerations,  most  frequently  addressed 

f*  Persuasive — Danton  "aussi  nous  ne  le  jugcrons  pas  nous  le  tuerons.J 
[i  Aristopb.  Eq.  770.  seq.] 

|;  Here  Demosthenes  in  general  superior,  tho'  some  topics  bad  and  base.     Sec 
Kara  Mcjo.  v£',  seqq.] 
[§  See  Aristoph.  Vesp.  COO  seq.] 


1TIE  DEMOCRACY  OE  ATHENS.  409 

to  their  favor,*  is  that  the  accused,  or  those  he  represents,  have 
lavished  their  fortunes,  hy  the  Various  Liturgies,  upon  the  public, 
and  this  is  a  topic  continually  occurring,  not  only  in  these 
speeches,  but  in  those  of  Isgeus  also.t  Another  akin  to  it,  is 
that  the  judges  would  be  more  benefitted  by  the  property  of  the 
defendant,  if  left  to  be  managed  by  him  in  trust  for  the  people,}: 
(for  that  really  was  the  true  description  of  the  case  of  every  man 
of  substance,  he  was  compnlsorily  the  steward  of  the  poor,)  than 
if  confiscated  and  wasted  at  once.  This  happened  to  be  really 
the  fact,  and  was  no  doubt  some  protection  to  the  more  opulent 
classes,  so  long,  at  least,  as  by  magnificence  in  their  style  of  liv- 
ing^ and  the  performance  not  only  of  the  liturgies  imposed  upon 
them  by  law,  but  of  many  more  voluntarily  incurred,  they  made 
it  quite  evident,  to  their  jealous  cestui/  que  trust,  that  he  proba- 
bly had  the  full  benefit  of  the  fund.  The  consequence  of  this 
strange  tenure  of  property,  however,  was  that  the  rich  lived  un- 
der perpetual  surveillance  in  regard  to  the  use  of  their  fortunes, 
and,  when  the  day  of  confiscation,  or  heavy  contributions  in  the 
shape  of  discretionary  fines,  came,  they  were  called  to  account, 
as  rigidly  as  a  fraudulent  bankrupt,  threatened  with  the  galleys^ 
for  the  manner  in  which  they  had  got  rid  of  their  supposed 
assets.  |1 

A  very  curious  instance  of  this,  and  one  highly  illustrative  of 
this  part  of  the  subject,  is  the  case  of  the  estate  of  one  Aristo- 
phanes.^l  The  property  of  this  man,  who  was  supposed  to  be 
rich,  was  confiscated,  but,  as  it  turned  out  to  be  far  less  than  was 
expected,  the  Dermis,  suspecting  some  foul  play,  called  the  next 
of  kin  of  the  deceased  to  account  for  this  unlooked  for  deficien- 
cy. The  defendant  ventures  to  complain  of  it  as  a  very  hard 
case,  that  one,  who  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  affairs  of  another 
and  knew  nothing  of  them,  should  be  held  to  explain  them  at 
his  peril.  How  was  it  possible  for  him  to  answer,  item  by  item, 
on  an  account  of  the  sort  ?  On  such  a  day,  your  relative  re- 
ceived so  much  from  such  a  banker,  or  ship-owner  ;  what  is  be- 
come of  it  ?  He  was  reported  at  such  a  time  to  have  in  his 
possession  a  large  fund ;  where  is  it  1  Was  he  his  brother's 
keeper,  or  even  his  book-keeper  ?  It  was  evident  no  man  could 
meet  such  a  responsibility  ;  and  we  are  not  surprised  to  find  him 
adding  that  the  sycophants  (prosecutors)  had  been  the  ruin  of 
many  an  honest  man  in  that  way.  He  reminds  his  judges,  that 
they  have  always  been  disposed  to  overrate  people's  fortunes  on 

{*  Plut.  Demosth.] 

t  Isseus.  IIs£i  tou  3>iXox<ry)|xovo£  xXtj^ou.  13.  Lys.     [Demos'th.  xa<ra  Msj&J 

[J  At)jxoo'&.  xara  AcpoSov  expressly.] 
1%  See  the  plan  of  reform  Ecclesiaz.  412-25.] 
{II  Aristoph.  Eq.  921.  seq.] 

IT  vtfsg  tCjv  Agigocpav.  Xprjjuoar, 

vol.  i. — 52 


410  CONSTITUTIONAL  HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 

mere  report,  and  illustrates  it  by  the  case  of  Alcibiades,  who,  after 
being  in  command  of  the  army  for  four  or  five  years,  and  having 
received  from  the  allies  twice  as  much  as  any  body  else,  so  that 
many  thought  he  had  at  least  one  hundred  talents,  left,  after  all, 
less  to  his  children  than  he  had  received  from  his  guardians 
when  he  came  to  his  estates.  So,  he  adds,  should  yon  confiscate 
the  property  of  Timotheus,"  "though  God  forbid  it  should  be 
done  unless  for  some  great  benefit  to  the  state,"  and  get  less  by 
it  than  you  have  from  Aristophanes,  would  you  call  on  his  next 
of  kin  to  make  up  the  deficiency  I  Certainly  not.  Why  ?  Be- 
cause Conon's  will,  made  at  Cyprus,  shows  clearly  he  owned 
but  a  very  small  part  of  what  you  imagined  him  to  possess.  All 
this  would  seem  quite  conclusive  enough,  but  the  defendant 
knows  the  law  and  its  interpreters  too  well  to  confide  in  the  jus- 
tice of  his  cause.  He,  accordingly,  reminds  them  how  little 
they  ever  received  from  confiscated  estates,  which  were  instantly 
plundered  and  dilapidated  as  by  a  foreign  enemy,  the  very  doors 
being  torn  from  their  hinges — and  yet  no  poor  man  got  a  decent 
dividend  out  of  the  fund,  while,  in  that  particular  case,  by  taking 
care  of  the  property,  no  less  a  sum  than  a  thousand  drachmas 
had  been  actually  paid  into  the  treasury  !  He  farther  insists 
upon  the  merits  of  his  own  father  in  the  use  of  his  fortunes,  of 
which,  reserving  for  himself  and  family  barely  wherewithal  to 
furnish  them  with  the  necessaries  of  life,  he  had  constantly  spent 
the  income  on  all  sorts  of  liturgies  to  oblige  the  people,  and  that 
without  any  selfish  object  whatever.  He  had  not,  like  so  many 
others,  laid  out  his  own  money  in  order  to  indemnify  himself  by 
offices  obtained  through  the  popularity  he  should  thus  acquire — 
he  had  sought  no  reward  for  his  magnificence  in  keeping  so 
many  horses,  and  for  his  triumphs  at  the  Isthmian  and  Nemean 
games,  but  the  honor  of  the  state. 

We  will  just  stop  to  remark  here,  that  if  M.  de  Tocqueville 
finds  the  social  freedom  of  the  people  of  the  United  States  so 
inconveniently  restrained  by  what  he  alleges  to  be  the  censure 
exercised  here  by  all  over  all,  what  would  he  have  said  of  the 
system  of  prying,  inquisitorial  surveillance,  revealed  in  this 
pleading  of  Lysias?  Nay,  what  would  he  have  said  of  the 
whole  constitution  and  being  of  an  ancient  commonwealth, 
which,  as  we  shall  presently  show,  allowed  of  no  social  liberty 
or  personal  independence  at  all  ?     But  this  by  the  way. 

In  other  orations,  Lysias  harps  upon  the  same  string.  In  his 
defence  of  some  one,  accused  of  briberyt — an  admirable  plead- 
ing— his  client  is  made  to  repel  the  charge  by  reviewing  the 

*  8  ^  yivoiro  si  fxrj  <n  [xsWst  \iiya  ctyadov  stferfQcct  tyj  #oXp».  '£.  Tinio- 
theus  was  their  great  general  of  that  name,  son  of  Cimon. 

|  AtroXoyKt  AugoSoxiag  a,^a^oL(fYi(xog, 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ATHENS.  411 

whole  tenor  of  his  past  conduct,  and  showing  how  devoted  he 
had  been  to  the  public  service.  He  begins,  as  usual,  with  a  list 
of  the  liturgies  he  had  performed,  three  fourths  of  them  entirely 
voluntary.*  His  galley  sailed  so  much  better  than  any  other, 
that  Alcibiades  would  have  her  as  his  flag-ship,  which,  he  takes 
care  to  add,  he  could  not  prevent  his  doing.  He  then  reminds 
the  court,  that  the  public  revenues  were  so  fallen  off,  through 
mismanagement  and  peculation,  that  voluntary  liturgies  were 
almost  the  only  resource  left  to  fill  up  the  deficit,  therefore,  if 
they  were  well  advised,  they  would  not  care  less  for  the  fortunes 
of  the  defendant,  than  for  their  own,  knowing  that  they  would 
always,  as  heretofore,  have  the  use  of  them  to  any  extent.  And 
for  the  management  of  the  estate,  he  adds,  none  of  you  can  doubt 
that  I  shall  make  a  better  steward  (radios)  than  they  who  ad- 
minister your  finances.  If  you  deprive  me  of  my  property,  you 
will  not  enrich  yourselves ;  you  will  only  give  up  this  fund  to 
be  squandered  and  dissipated  like  every  other.f  You  had  much 
better  give  me  yours  than  take  mine.  I  have  lived  with  the 
strictest  economy  that  I  might  have  the  more  to  spend  on  you, 
and  hold  my  fortune  only  to  your  use — that  very  fortune  which 
exposes  me  to  the  persecutions  of  sycophants. 

We  should  be  giving  to  this  part  of  the  subject  a  dispropor- 
tionate extent,  were  we  to  make  abstracts  of  all  the  pleadings 
which  throw  any  light  upon  it ;  but  there  are  two  or  three 
others  to  which  we  feel  bound  to  call  the  attention  of  our  readers. 
One  of  these  is  the  speech  against  the  corn-dealers.  Athens  de- 
pended on  foreign  importations  for  no  less  than  a  third  of  the 
bread  she  consumed.  It  is  not,  therefore,  to  be  wondered  at, 
considering  the  tendency  of  ancient  legislation  to  regulate  all 
the  concerns  of  society,  and  their  comparative  ignorance  of  poli- 
tical economv,  that  their  corn  laws  were  a  very  important  part 
of  their  police.  Accordingly,  very  severe  penalties  were  de- 
nounced against  every  thing  calculated  to  diminish  the  supply 
of  so  necessary  an  article.  Engrossing  (beyond  a  very  mode- 
rate and  defined  quantity)  was  punished  with  death ;  and  since 
the  persons  engaged  in  the  trade  were  usually  metics  and 
foreigners,^:  (the  Jews  and  Lombards  of  that  day),  we  may  be 
sure  that  the  public  informers  would  not  be  excessively  indulgent 
with  regard  to  them.  The  pleading  in  question  is  a  curious 
and  instructive  proof  of  this.  The  prosecutor  begins  by  for- 
mally excusing  himself  for  having  seemingly  taken  part  with 
the  corn  dealers,  because,  when  some  of  the  senators  proposed 
that  they  should  be  immediately  and  without  a  hearing  deliver- 
ed over  to  the  executioner,  he,  thinking  such  a  procedure  rather 

[*  Isseus  irs^i  <rou  N»xocV£a<rou  xXtj^ou.] 
[+ Aristoph.  Vesp.  1100.] 
[t  Aristoph.  Eq.  347.] 


412  CONSTITUTIONAL  HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 

harsh,  moved  that  the  usual  course  of  trial  iu  the  courts  should 
be  pursued.  He  was  determined,  however,  not  to  lie  under  such 
an  imputation  as  that  of  being  a  patron  of  forestallers  and  regis- 
ters, and  so,  to  show  his  zeal,  undertook  to  play  public  accuser 
on  the  occasion.  The  defendant  pleaded  an  express  order  from 
the  Archons,  sed  non  allocatur.  The  authority  of  those  magis- 
trates to  dispense  with  the  law  was  denied,  and  many  precedents 
referred  to,  in  which  the  courts  had  displayed  the  greatest  seve- 
rity against  all  suspected  of  even  winking  at  that  nefarious  traf- 
fic, and  had  condemned  the  accused  to  death,  in  spite  of  all  his 
evidence  to  establish  his  innocence. 

In  the  short  speech  against  Epicrates  and  his  colleagues,  for 
malversation  in  an  embassy,  we  find  the  accuser  urging  the  peo- 
ple to  make  an  example  of  the  defendants,  because  they  had  in- 
fluence  and  ability  in  public  affairs.  What  signifies  your  seve- 
rity against  the  feeble  and  the  obscure,  when  the  orators,  who 
are  continually  shocking  us  with  the  display  of  large  fortunes 
suddenly  amassed  by  plunder,  secure  to  themselves  by  their  elo- 
quence or  their  intrigues  a  perfect  impunity.  It  was,  it  seems, 
come  to  such  a  pass,  that,  instead  of  being  punished  for  their 
notorious  robberies,  the  Demus  was  grateful  to  them  for  being 
let  in  for  ever  so  small  a  share  of  the  spoils.*  Here,  too,  we  find 
a  violation  of  all  sound  principles  of  judicature,  and  all  the  guar- 
antees of  the  rights  of  the  individual,  openly  pressed  upon  the 
people.  To  be  sure,  it  seemed  to  be  excused  in  that  case  by  the 
lex  talionis.  These  sycophants,  says  the  orator,  are  in  the  habit 
of  telling  you,  when  they  prosecute  any  unfortunate  man  un- 
justly, "If  you  do  not  convict,  you  will  have  no  fees."  Even 
a  topic  so  flagitious,  however,  scarcely  justifies  his  urging  the 
assembly,  as  he  does,  to  allow  the  offender  no  trial,  which  he 
alleges  to  be  superfluous,  where  the  court  is  already  convinced, 
and  the  crimes  are  notorious  !t 

The  only  other  oration  of  Lysias,  which  we  will  especially 
recommend  to  the  attention  of  our  readers,  is  the  fine  defence  of 
some  one  who,  having  remained  at  Athens  during  the  reign  of 
the  XXX  Tyrants,  was  accused,  in  spite  of  the  amnesty,  as  one 
of  their  accomplices.^  It  deals  in  the  usual  topics,  but,  besides 
these,  it  presents  a  very  lively,  and  we  have  no  doubt,  perfectly 
true  picture  of  the  infamous  courses  of  the  demagogues  and  sy- 
cophants, both  towards  the  allies  and  the  citizens  of  Athens. 
He  might  well  affirm  that,  had  the  XXX  Tyrants  confined  them- 
selves to  the  punishment  of  those  wretches,  the  country  would 
have  had  cause  to  rejoice  in  their  severity.  They  played,  indeed, 
under  the  authority,  and  in  the  name  of  the  people  whom  they 

[*  Aristoph.  Vesp.  655  seq.  in  point  especially,  G71  682-5.] 

[t  Aristoph.  Eq.  1355.  and  see  lb.  1354-69  Vesp.  655.  seq.  and  921.] 

JA>5(Xou  KaraXutfewj  AiroXoyta. 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ATHENS.  413 

misled,  exactly  the  part  of  those  tyrants.  Oligarchy  had  twice 
been  established  in  hatred  of  them,  whose  misrule  was  so  intol- 
erable that  people  sought  a  refuge  from  it  in  any  form  of  govern- 
ment. Nor  are  they  so  much  to  be  blamed  for  their  tyrannical 
outrages  as  you  who  permit  them,  and  who  call  that  democracy 
which  is  the  arbitrary  power  of  a  few  making  war,  through  your 
judgments  and  decrees,  upon  all  who  will  not  lie  down  quietly 
and  be  fleeced  by  them.  "The  true  democrat,  is  he  that  obeys 
the  laws  and  reverences  an  oath."  In  short,  this  exposure  of  the 
attempts  pf  the  demagogues  to  re-establish  their  former  odious 
supremacy,  and  to  plunge  the  city  once  more  into  the  guilt  and 
folly  which  she  had  scarcely  expiated  by  so  many  years  of  suf- 
fering and  adversity,  is  one  of  the  most  instructive  lessons  of 
Greek  history. 

So  much  for  Lysias.  His  contemporary,  Isocrates,  whom  we 
have  had  more  than  once  occasion  to  mention,  and  whose  ora- 
tory was  principally  of  the  panegyrical  kind,  is,  of  course,  upon 
the  whole,  far  less  important  to  us  as  an  authority  on  the  subject 
of  constitutional  history.  Yet  there  are  several  of  his  produc- 
tions that  deserve  particular  attention.  The  two  most  instruc- 
tive for  our  present  purpose  are  undoubtedly  the  Areopagitic 
and  the  Panathenaic  orations.  We  have  been  ourselves  very 
much  indebted  to  these  elaborate  compositions,  in  forming  our 
own  views  of  the  government  of  Athens.  The  latter  especially 
is  the  more  remarkable,  as  having  been  begun  in  the  ninety- 
fourth  and  finished  in  the  ninety-seventh  year  of  his  age.  But 
our  limits  do  not  permit  us  to  do  more  here  than  observe  that 
the  decay  of  morals,  and,  of  course,  of  law  and  liberty,  was 
constantly  progressive  during  that  whole  period,  and  that,  when 
he  contrasts  the  end  with  the  beginning  of  the  century,  he 
speaks  with  the  authority  of  an  eye  witness,  whose  whole  life 
had  been  devoted  to  the  study  of  wisdom  and  the  observation  of 
life. 

The  most  superficial  glance  at  the  works  of  these  and  other 
Greek  writers  will  satisfy  every  one,  accustomed  to  consider 
such  subjects,  that  the  citizens  of  Athens,  and  those  generally  of 
the  democratic  commonwealths  of  Greece,  had  none  of  the  guar- 
antees secured  to  us  by  our  American  constitutions.  They  were 
particularly  unprotected  in  the  two  points  in  which  the  action  of 
government  is  most  sensibly  felt,  both  by  society  and  by  indivi- 
duals, taxation  and  judicature.  These  were  both,  in  practice,* 
(we  speak  of  later  times,)  almost  entirely  arbitrary.  As  to  the 
former,  Solon  had  subjected  the  higher  classes  to  proportionably 
heavier  burthens  than  the  lower ;  but  this  inequality  was  com- 
pensated by  a  corresponding  superiority  in  political  power  and 
influence.     As  the  democratic,  or  rather  demagogical  interest, 

[*  Bockh.] 


414  CONSTITUTIONAL  HISTORY  OP  GREECE. 

became  more  preponderating,  this,  like  every  other  balance,  was 
overturned,  and  the  burthens  of  the  rich  were  increased,  while 
their  weight  was  less  and  less  felt  in  the  administration  of  affairs 
until  they  seemed  to  exist,  as  we  have  seen,  only  for  the  use  of 
the  many.  It  was  not  before  the  fourth  year  of  the  Peloponne- 
sian  war,  that  extraordinary  contributions — afterwards  such  a 
source  of  vexatious  oppression  to  the  wealthy — were  resorted  to 
by  the  State.  It  soon  grew  into  a  system,  in  comparison  with 
which,  ship-money  and  stamp- acts  were  mere  trifles. 

Their  administration  of  justice  was  quite  as  bad  ;*  they  had  no 
idea,  or  at  least  a  most  imperfect  one,  of  the  necessity  of  separa- 
ting the  three  great  departments  of  the  government,  upon  which 
the  school  of  Locke,  and  the  English  and  American  Revolutions 
has,  not  without  reason,  laid  so  much  stress.  Aristotle,  indeed, 
saw  this  truth,  and  distinctly  treats  of  it ;  but  even  he  does  not 
draw  the  line  between  the  different  functions  with  sufficient  pre- 
cision.! He  would  have  the  popular  assembly,  for  instance,  to 
act  as  a  court  of  justice  in  some  cases  of  the  greatest  importance, 
the  very  ones  in  which  it  would  be  most  liable  to  be  misled  by 
passion.  And  although  the  books,  not  only  of  the  philosophers, 
but  of  the  historians,  the  orators,  and  the  poets,t  are  full  of  al- 
lusions to  the  empire  of  the  law,  and  to  the  liberty  that  bows 
only  to  it,  yet  the  idea  of  a  judge,  independent  of  the  legislative 
and  executive  powers,  by  a  permanent  office  and  a  fixed  salary — 
a  principle  now  become  almost  universal  in  Christendom^ — 
never  entered  into  their  heads.  Not  only  so,  but  the  Roman  in- 
stitution, attended  with  such  admirable  effects,  both  in  the  ad- 
ministration of  the  law,  and  in  the  cultivation  of  it  as  a  science, 
of  a  single  praetor  expounding  the  rule  to  a  jury  charged  with 
the  application  of  it  to  the  facts  of  the  case,  was  unknown  at 
Athens.  Their  tribunals  were  mere  mobs, II  composed  of  hundreds 
sometimes  of  thousands  of  judges,  where  all  sense  of  individual 
responsibility  was  completely  lost.  The  general  assembly,  (ec- 
clesia)  was  not  regularly  a  court,  but  it  exercised  judicial  powers 
in  extraordinary  cases,  such  as  the  trial,  or  rather  murder  of  the 
generals,  already  referred  to,  and  those  exceptions  were  too  fre- 
quently occurring.  Its  conduct  on  such  occasions  was,  of  course, 
perfectly  arbitrary.  Bills  of  attainder,  ex  post  facto,  and  laws 
violating  the  obligations  of  contracts,  were  passed  in  the  shape 
of  judgments  or  special  decrees,  without  the  least  hesitation. 

[*  See  a  most  instructive  passage,  Demosth.  xara  T»fJU)X£a<rov£,  \g'.] 

t  Pol.  IV.  14.  The  popular  assembly  to  be  charged  with  war  and  peace,  capi- 
tal cases,  suduvai,  etc. 

[t  See  the  elegy  of  Solon  in  Demosth.  iregi  YlagairgztfQziac,  o§'.  and  the 
same  orat.  xara  Msi<5,  g/3'  et  passim.] 

§  Nay,  it  exists  even  in  Turkey  for  the  Osinanlis.  Thierry.  Dix  ans  d'&udes 
Ilistoriques,  241-3. 

[||  Dem.  xowa  Mgi<J,  g/3'.] 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ATHENS.  415 

It  is  true  that,  in  Solon's  plan,  or  as  Isocrates  affirms,  in  the 
old  constitution,  transmitted  from  the  age  of  Theseus,  and  only 
burnished  up  and  modified  by  the  great  lawgiver,  there  were 
some  restraints  attempted  to  be  put  upon  the  sovereign  power, 
in  its  various  functions.*  The  Areopagus,  for  instance,  was 
clothed  in  a  very  high  censorial  authority,  and  had  a  controlling 
influence,  if  not  an  extensive  jurisdiction.  None  could  be  a 
member  of  this  senate  without  having  been  an  archon,  and,  until 
the  time  of  Aristides,  none  could  be  an  archon  but  a  member  of 
the  first  class  of  the  timocracy  of  Solon.  So  that  law-giver  pro- 
vided for  amendments  in  his  institutions,  but  the  initiative  in 
these  reforms  was  given  to  certain  select  and  sworn  nomothetce^ 
on  whose  motion  alone  the  assembly  was  allowed  to  make  any 
fundamental  change.  So  that  the  law  was  to  be  paramount  to 
its  decrees.  In  like  manner,  so  far  as  we  may  rely  on  our  know- 
ledge of  their  very  complicated  judicature,  the "  Helioea,  out  of 
which  their  various  tribunals  were  formed,  was  destined  to  per- 
form in  some  degree  the  functions  of  our  courts,  by  maintaining 
the  supremacy  of  the  same  fundamental  laws  over  the  decrees  of 
the  assembly.  This  was  a  body  of  six  thousand  jurors,  drawn 
from  the  whole  mass  of  the  citizens,  and  divided  into  ten  differ- 
ent colleges  or  courts,  who  were  all  to  be  above  thirty  years  of 
age,  and  charged  under  oath  with  the  trial  of  causes.  A  dema- 
gogue might  thus  occasionally,  like  a  minister  of  the  crown  in 
constitutional  monarchies,  be  made  liable  before  this  select  body 
for  measures  adopted,  on  his  motion,  by  the  whole  people  in  the 
general  assembly.  We  have  examples  of  a  threat  of  prosecution 
held  out  to  deter  the  making  of  such  motions,  and  a  famous  in- 
stance of  it  occurs  in  the  law  of  Eubulus  of  Anaphlystus,  against 
the  repeal  of  the  theorikon,  to  which  Demosthenes,  in  his  phi- 
lippics, alludes  with  so  much  dissatisfaction,  and  which  he  suc- 
ceeded in  causing  to  be  abolished,  only  after  the  defeat  at  Chero- 
nea  had  rendered  the  repeal  of  it  entirely  unavailing  to  any  good 
purpose.  In  these  and  other  provisions  of  Solon,  we  see  that 
reverence  for  law  as  a  fixed  and  sacred  rule  of  action,  both  for 
the  government  and  for  individuals,  without  which  there  can  be 
neither  liberty  nor  order,  and  which  the  genius  of  Plato  has  so 
beautifully  illustrated  in  the  last  conversations  and  death  of 
Socrates.t  But  these  ideas  were  in  later  times  confined  to  the 
few — they  gradually  ceased  to  influence  the  conduct  of  the  peo- 
ple, whose  will  came  to  be  regarded  as  the  only  law— and  it  is 
plain  from  the  authorities  we  have  vouched  that  no  Turkish 
bashaw  ever  exercised  over  the  rajahs,  abandoned  to  his  barba- 
rous despotism,  a  tyranny  more  petulant  and  arbitrary,  than  that 
of  the  Athenian  Demus.J 

[*  For  Solon's  legislation,  see  Oral,  contra  Androt.  from  10  to  19.]        tCrito. 
\  See  Demosth.  xara  Msib.  v<5'  v/?;. 


416  CONSTITUTIONAL  HtSlORV  OF  GREECE* 

The  restraints  which  modern  society  has  imposed  upon  itself, 
in  the  exercise  of  its  sovereignty,  are  only  an  acknowledgment 
of  the  fallibility  of  man.  In  our  own  republican  institutions, 
this  self-denial  has  always  struck  us  as  something  sublime.  All 
absolute  power,  if  allowed  to  act  on  sudden  impulses,  will  and 
must  be  tyrannical ;  nor  does  it  in  the  least  signify  by  what  name 
it  is  called,  except  perhaps  that  the  galling  severity  of  the  bond- 
age is  in  proportion  to  the  number  of  the  masters.  Republican 
government  is  ex  vi  termini,  a  government  of  laws,  not  of  men — 
that  is  the  old  Roman  definition,  and  it  is  the  only  description  of 
rational  liberty,  or  indeed  of  civilized  society.  It  is  a  government 
of  reason,  not  of  passion  — of  rule,  not  of  will,  and  of  duty,  not 
of  caprice  ;  in  short,  it  is  limited  and  legal,  not  arbitrary  power. 
Accordingly,  all  the  checks  which  our  constitutions  impose  upon 
the  legislative  department,  all  the  securities  by  which  they  guard 
the  liberty,  the  lives,  and  the  property  of  the  people,  in  the  mak- 
ing or  the  administration  of  the  law,  are  designed  to  prevent 
hasty  conclusions,  and  the  prejudging  of  important  questions — to 
insure  in  all  things  an  examination,  as  far  as  possible,  without 
fear,  favor,  or  affection.  In  the  true  spirit  of  Christian  humility, 
the  most  sublime  of  all  virtues — the  people  have  taken  care  that 
they  shall  not  be  led  into  temptation  by  that  omnipotence  which 
God  alone  may  not  abase,  and  reserving  to  themselves  ultimately 
an  absolute  control  over  their  own  destinies,  have  practically 
restrained  the  exercise  of  their  sovereignty,  by  withholding  from 
their  agents  some  of  its  highest  attributes.  But  the  democracy 
of  Athens,  whatever  was  its  original  constitution,  became,  after 
the  death  of  Pericles,  the  lawless,  furious  despot,  depicted  by 
Aristotle.  It  became  impatient  of  every  restraint  or  delay  in 
executing  its  purposes.  It  was  surrounded  by  swarms  of  flat* 
terers  and  parasites^  who  spoke  to  it  of  nothing  but  its  perfec- 
tions and  its  infallibility,  its  power  to  dispense  with  all  laws,  and 
its  "divine  right'  to  do  any  wrong.  The  base  sophist,  who, 
when  consulted  by  Alexander  on  the  justice  of  a  measure,  an- 
swered, that  it  was  just,  because  he  willed  it,  would  unquestion- 
ably have  held  precisely  the  same  language  to  the  mob  at  Athens. 
Demades  is  a  case  in  point — Antipater  had  about  him  no  flatter- 
er so  abject  and  unscrupulous  as  that  prince  of  democrats  under 
the  popular  regime — just  as  the  fiercest  Brutuses  of  the  directo- 
ry became  the  vainest  counts  of  the  empire.* 

What  should  we  think  of  being  compelled  to  reside  in  a  small 
community,  deciding  in  the  weightiest  matters  upon  the  spur  of 
the  occasion,  incessantly  excited  by  unprincipled  agitators,  living 
by  forfeiture,  and  confiscation,  and  plunder,  without  a  press, 
without  a  constitutional  barrier  or  guarantee — without  a  magna 

*  Somebody  had  a  favor  to  ask  of  Merlin  of  Douay,  then  in  exile  under  the 
Restoration—  "Be  sure,  said  a  friend  to  him,  to  address  him  as  M.  Ic.  Comtc" 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OP  ATHENS.  417 

chafta  or  habeas  corpus  act — without  a  grand  jury  or  a  petit 
jury,  subject  to  challenges  to  the  array  and  to  the  polls — without 
any  definition  of  high  treason,  and  therefore  with  multitudes  of 
constructive  treasons — where  there  was  no  safety  for  persons  or 
papers — where  no  man's  house  was  his  castle — where  there  was 
no  appeal,  no  plea  of  autrefois  acquit  or  convict — no  prohibition 
of  exorbitant  fines,  and  cruel  and  unusual  punishments — where 
not  only  there  was  no  provision  for  equality  in  taxation,  but 
inequality  was  a  principle  and  a  system*— where  slaves  were 
continually  tortured  to  give  evidence  against  their  masters,  and 
masters  themselves  were  not  always  exempt  from  the  torture  of 
the  slave — where  instead  of  judges  there  were  commissioners — 
where  private  property  might  not  only  be  taken  for  public  use 
without  compensation,  but  was  habitually  treated  as  if  it  were 
public  property,  unduly  appropriated  by  the  private  holder — 
where  no  bills  were  required  to  be  read  three  times  in  two  houses, 
and  where  the  departments  of  government  were  all  confounded 
in  one  tremendous  mass  of  arbitrary  power — where  exceptional 
legislation,  bills  of  attainder  and  privilegia  of  all  sorts  were  of 
every  day's  '  occurrence— where,  in  short,  there  was  no  time  for 
reflection,  no  locus  penitential,  but  the  decrees  of  a  passionate 
and  tumultuary  mob,  misinformed,  misguided,  superseding  all 
laws  and  constitutions,  were  carried  into  instant  execution  ?  The 
terrible  effects  of  this  blind  precipitancy  are  seen  in  many  famous 
passages  of  Athenian  history — as,  for  instance,  in  the  case  of 
Socrates,  and  in  that  of  Mitylene,  condemned  on  the  motion  of 
the  bloody  Cleon  to  massacre  and  slavery,  and  saved  by  a  hair's 
breadth  'scape,  on  the  second  thought  of  the  multitude. t  As  to 
constructive  treasons,  Tacitus  gives  a  fearful  account  of  them 
in  the  use  made  of  the  lex  majestatis  under  the  dark  and  jealous 
despotism  of  Tiberius,  and  Montesquieu  well  remarks  that  un- 
certainty on  that  single  point  is  enough  to  make  a  tyranny  of 
any  government.^ 

The  restraints,  we  have  just  enumerated,  were  long  the  pecu- 
liar privileges  of  the  English  race ;  and  yet,  strange  to  say,  most 

{*  Pollux  VIII.  6.  Harpocrat.  sitfayysXia — Stricto  jure  there  was — res 
judicata,  locus  classicus  Demosth.  w^otf  Asirriv  X(3'.  Id.  in  Timocrat.  p.  717. 
R.  ed.  Terence  Phormio  III.  2.  58.] 

t  Thucyd.  III.  36.     So  Euripides  generalizes  : 

'Orav  yag  rjfScl  §7}^og  Sig  ogyrjv  itstfuv 
o/x'ojov  w£S  tfug  'xoLTOidfisdax  \af3gov, 
6i  8'  r)(fu-)(oc;  <r»£  avrog  svrsivovn  julsv 
^aXwv  vrfswoi,  etc. — Orest.  696,  sqq. 

What  a  dupe  for  a  demagogue,  what  a  terror  to  the  desolate  and  oppressed — a 
sovereign  multitude,  so  passionate  and  impetuous. 

[i  As  to  torture,  which  Demosthenes  says  is  the  best  evidence,  see  a  loc.  class. 
(Andocid.  22.)  in  his  speech  against  Onetor.-^—But  see  JSsch.  x.  Ila^atf. 
vol.  i. — 53 


418  CONSTITUTIONAL  HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 

of  them  were  of  Norman,  not  of  Saxon  origin.  Magna  Charta, 
which  embodies  the  greater  part  of  them,  was  merely  a  feudal 
charter.*  Chancellor  Kent,  in  his  valuable  Commentaries,  cites 
an  analogous  example  from  Danish  history,  on  the  election  of 
one  of  their  kings  in  1319.t  There  is  nothing  surprising  in  the 
coincidence,  since  the  great  charta,  as  Lord  Coke  affirms,  was 
simply  declaratory,  and  we  will  add,  declaratory  of  the  common 
law  of  feuds.  There  is,  with  the  exception,  perhaps,  of  the 
provisions  made  for  the  protection  of  commerce,  and  sonic  mi- 
nor provisions,  nothing  in  it  but  what  every  vassal  had  an  un- 
doubted right  to  exact  of  his  suzerain.  The  great  peculiarity 
of  it  was  the  commission  of  twenty-five  barons,  charged  with 
seeing  it  executed,  and  authorized  to  levy  war  on  the  king  for  a 
breach  of  it.  Even  this  was  no  new  thing  in  principle,  for  every 
vassal,  in  case  of  violation  of  the  feudal  pact,  might  right  him- 
self, if  he  could,  by  force.  But  the  peculiarity,  just  mentioned, 
consisted  in  the  concerted  action,  the  community  of  interest, 
ascribed  to  the  whole  body  of  the  king's  tenantry,  including  the 
church,  under  its  Kentish  chief,  and  the  city  of  London  as  a 
corporation.  This  was  the  foundation  of  a  public,  a  nation  ; 
and  it  was  what  existed  no  where  among  the  feudatories  of  the 
continent.  It  was  in  derogation  of  the  solitary,  self-dependent, 
exclusive  spirit  of  the  Feud,  and  produced  effects  of  the  most 
salutary  kind  in  England,  as  her  constitution  developed  itself. 
But  in  the  provisions  and  guarantees  of  Magna  Charta,  the  people 
at  large,  the  many,  the  vast  majority  of  the  nation,  in  short,  the 
conquered  Anglo-Saxon  race,  had  no  interest,  with  the  exception 
of  the  few  holdings  left  in  the  hands  of  the  original  proprietors 
at  the  conquest,  and  with  the  farther  exception  of  their  interest 
in  the  church,  and  in  the  city  of  London.  We  say  the  church, 
because  it  was  the  sanctuary  and  the  refuge  of  the  oppressed 
races  every  where,  and  was,  in  fact,  the  democratic  element  of 
society  in  the  middle  ages.  We  say  the  city  of  London,  because 
it  was  as  a  body  politic  and  an  artificial  person  of  great  political 
power,  that  it  took  part  in  those  proceedings.  With  these  excep- 
tions, magna  charta  was,  originally,  the  work  and  the  bulwark 
of  the  Conquerors  only.  The  Norman  barons  were  like  all  other 
barons,  a  peerage,  and  the  king,  as  their  lord  paramount,  only 
primus  inter  pares.  It  was  the  great  cardinal  principle  of  the 
system  that  the  vassal  was  bound  to  no  service  or  aid,  not  ex- 
pressed or  necessarily  implied  in  his  compact.  When  applied 
to  for  help  by  his  lord.  Shylock  himself  never  asked  more  grudg- 
ingly, "is  it  so  nominated  in  the  bond."  The  usual  incidents  of 
tenure  were  well  defined,  and  of  small  account,  unless  abused — 
but  for  all  extraordinary  aids  and  subsidies,  the  suzerain  was 

[•  See  Liber  Dciidornm.} 
t  v.  II.  p.  8. 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ATHENS.  419 

absolutely  dependent  on  the  good  will  and  pleasure  of  his  feuda- 
tories. They  were  not  even  bound  by  the  vote  of  a  majority 
in  the  lord's  court — the  feudal  system  did  not  recognise,  in  strict- 
ness, the  rule  of  a  majority  governing* — each  granted  for  himself, 
and  he  appealed,  if  his  lord  demanded  more  of  him,  or  were 
guilty  of  any  other  encroachment,  to  his  sword,  or  his  peers. 
There  never  was  a  fiercer  spirit  of  liberty  than  animated  this 
military  democracy  among  themselves,  or  in  relation  to  their 
territorial  (for  so  alone  they  were)  superiors.  They  were  the 
worst  oppressors  to  the  conquered  races — Saxons  or  Gauls.  The 
former  were  forever  crying  out  for  the  laws  of  Edward  the  Con- 
fessor— long  in  vain — for  since  the  days  of  the  Dorians  at  Sparta, 
and  their  Helots  and  perioeci.  never  was  there  such  a  frightful 
scene  of  tyranny  as  that  of  the  Normans  in  England  for  upwards 
of  a  century  after  the  conquest.  But  the  same  spirit  of  violence 
and  lawlessness,  which  made  them  such  intolerable  masters,  made 
them  rebellious  vassals.  It  was  that  race,  who,  holding  all  the 
lands  by  the  only  noble  tenures  of  knight  service  and  the  like, 
were  the  liberi  homines  of  the  great  charter ;  a  happy  equivoque 
that  as  the  pomcerium  of  the  city  was  enlarged,  was  easily  in- 
terpreted so  as  to  take  in  all  freemen  of  whatever  origin  or  des- 
cription. This  is,  indeed,  a  memorable  instance  of  the  manner 
in  which  Providence  often  uses  the  worst  things  as  instruments 
to  bring  about  the  best  ends.t 

That  this  feudal  charter,  thus  generalized,  should  be  in  process 
of  time  the  solid  basis  of  the  freest  and  best  institutions  the 
world  has  ever  seen — that  this  treaty,  stipulating  for  the  protec- 
tion of  the  haughtiest  privileges,  and  extorted  by  proud  Norman 
barons,  in  arms  against  their  chief,  should  be  found  so  compre- 
hensive in  its  language  and  provisions  as  to  include  as  well  the 
poor  oppressed  Saxon,  as  soon,  that  is,  as  he  ceased  to  be  poor, 
and  would  no  longer  consent  to  be  oppressed,  is  a  striking  fact, 
and  yet  nothing  is  more  certain — indeed  nothing,  when  it  comes 
to  be  examined,  will  appear  more  natural. X  England  is  the  na- 
tion of  Europe  whose  laws,  whose  manners,  whose  whole  con- 
stitution of  society,  have  been  most  thoroughly  penetrated  with 
the  spirit  of  the  feudal  system.  Yet  the  same  England  has 
built  upon  her  feudal  principles,  and  animated  with  her  fierce 
feudal  spirit,  a  body  of  laws,  to  which  a  foreigner,^  author  of  a 
work  dedicated  to  a  comparative  analysis  of  the  Judicial  Institu- 

[*  Hist.  Const  et  admimst.  de  France  Ch.  4.] 

t  On  this  subject  we  refer  generally  to  Thierry,  Dix  ans  d'etudes,  <fec. 

[t  Barrington's  Stat:  2-5,  at  p.  48,  one  of  the  old  Chroniclers  says  they  carried 
their  point — evaserunt  totidem  tyranni.] 

§  Meyer,  Tnstitut.  Judiciaires  des  principaux  pays  de  PEurope,  v.  II.  p.  298.  He 
is  quite  enthusiastic,  and  very  naturally  so,  all  his  readers  will  confess,  upon 
les  grands  avantages  qui  assignent  &.  la  legislation  de  la  Grande  Bretagne,  le 
premier  rang  entre  celles  de  toutes  les  nations  policies. 


420  CONSTITUTIONAL  HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 

tions  of  Europe,  has  not  scrupled  to  assign  "the  first  rank  among 
those  of  all  civilized  states" — that  glorious  common  law,  which, 
transplanted  into  a  new  world,  has  been  allied  to  the  only  per- 
fectly democratic  constitutions  that  have  ever  existed,  and  has 
for  two  hundred  years  given  us  that  for  which  Sydney  bled,  sub 
libcrtate  quietem — which  has  protected  person  and  property  as 
they  never  have  been  protected  elsewhere,  under  which  the 
humblest  cottage  is,  in  the  eye  of  the  law,  a  tower  of  strength 
and  an  inviolable  sanctuary,  which  "the  winds  may  whistle 
through,  and  the  rains  of  heaven  may  enter  it,  but  the  king  of 
England  cannot."*  We  are  fully  aware  how  many  causes  of  a 
most  peculiar  kind  conspired  to  produce  that  marvellous  system 
of  liberty  and  justice,  the  common  law,  but  beyond  all  doubt 
the  mighty  spirit  and  the  great  outlines  are  in  Magna  Charta — 
and  that  charter  was  the  common  law  of  the  feudal  aristocracy. 
But  it  was  an  aristocracy  only  as  compared  with  the  conquered 
races  ;  within  itself  it  was  a  democracy,  jealous  to  excess  (the 
more  jealous  for  being  a  superior  caste)  of  its  privileges.!  In 
short,  their  situation  was,  in  this  respect,  exceedingly  analogous, 
as  we  shall  presently  show,  to  what  are  called  the  republican 
and  democratic  states  of  antiquity.  In  both  cases  it  is  from  a 
high  and  exclusive  aristocracy  that  the  precepts  and  maxims  of 
liberty  have  been  derived,  for  the  benefit  of  ages  which  know 
how  to  maintain  liberty  without  the  help  of  aristocracy. 

The  application  of  these  remarks  to  the  subject  before  us, 
will  be  made  apparent  in  the  sequel,  and  we  will  just  add  that 
another  characteristic  of  modern  society,  of  which  we  shall  have 
more  to  say  hereafter,  may  be  traced  up  to  the  same  institutions. 
We  mean  the  spirit  of  individuality  that  pervades  it,  the  tenden- 
cy to  isolation  and  egoisme,  the  notion  that  governments  are 
made  for  the  citizen,  not  the  citizen  for  government.  Uetat  c'est 
moi,  is  the  language  of  modern  civilization.  We  shall  by  and 
by  see  that  the  Greeks  thought  differently  ;  but  in  the  mean  time 
we  will  only  observe,  that  all  the  establishments  of  the  feudal 
times  were  a  nursery  of  this  spirit  of  refractory  independence. 
The  solitary  castle,  fortified  against  the  law,  as  well  as  against 
violence ;  the  gauntlet  thrown  down  in  defiance  to  the  opposite 
party,  nay,  to  witnesses  and  judges — the  right  of  private  war 
and  wager  of  battle,  with  their  fruits,  the  duel  and  the  point  of 
honor.  In  these,  as  well  as  in  other  respects,  modern  society 
has  been  thoroughly  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  the  feudal  aristo- 
cracy, or.  rather,  of  the  military  democracy  formed  by  the  Teu- 
tonic conquerors  of  Europe. 

When  we  read  the  accounts  transmitted  to  us  from  so  many 
different  sources  of  the  highest  authority,  of  what  the  Athenian 

*  Lord  Chatham  on  the  case  of  general  warrants, 
[f  Demosth.  of  the  Spartans,  <x%%  Astttiv  xy'.] 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OP  ATHENS.  421 

democracy  became  so  soon  after  the  Persian  war  as  the  death  of 
Pericles,  and  what  it  continued  to  be  as  long  as  it  existed  at  all, 
one  is  almost,  as  Mr.  Hermann  observes,  at  a  loss  to  conceive 
how  it  could  have  maintained  its  institutions,  in  their  essentials, 
at  least  for  a  period  of  two  centuries,  and  have  given  to  them  the 
consistency  of  a  regularly  organized  and  highly  influential  sys- 
tem. Nay,  we  go  a  step  farther,  as  we  profess  ourselves  of  that 
school  which  has  no  great  confidence  in  what  is  called  the  sci- 
ence of  politics  theoretically  considered,  and  are  always  disposed 
in  matters  of  government,  to  judge  the  tree  by  its  fruits,  our  at- 
tention is  forcibly  struck  by  the  unquestionable  fact,  that  not  only 
was  the  love  of  the  Athenians  for  their  democratic  constitution 
a  deep  rooted  and  ardent  passion,  but  that  the  glory  and  prospe- 
rity of  the  state  under  that  constitution  seemed  fully  to  justify 
their  love.*  The  evils  of  popular  government,  as  Machiavelli 
remarks,  appear  worse  than  they  really  are.  There  is  compen- 
sation for  them  at  least  in  the  spirit  and  the  energy  it  awakens. 
The  vis  medicatrix  of  a  robust  nature  enables  it  to  overcome 
diseases  which  would  be  fatal  to  the  feeble,  the  inactive,  or  the 
dejected.  This  vitality  and  vigor  of  republican  government, 
which  triumphs  over  disorder,  and  resists,  for  a  while,  even  cor- 
ruption, has  been  remarked  at  every  period  of  its  history.  Mod- 
ern authors,  Bettinelli,  for  instance,  express  the  liveliest  surprise 
at  the  prosperity  and  progress  of  the  disorderly  little  common- 
wealths of  Lombardy,  in  the  eleventh,  twelfth,  and  thirteenth, 
centuries,  amidst  all  the  storms  which  they  had  to  encounter 
from  within  and  from  without.!  It  seems  difficult  to  imagine 
how,  in  a  state  of  things  so  nearly  verging  upon  the  state  of  na- 
ture or  downright  anarchy,  civil  society  could  flourish,  industry 
accumulate  wealth,  the  face  of  the  country  be  covered  with  im- 
provements, and  its  resources  of  all  sorts  be  multiplied  exceed- 
ingly. That  this  was  the  case  in  Attica,  up  to  the  period  of  the 
Peloponnesian  war,  is  universally  admitted.  We  have  to  that 
extent  the  express  testimony,  delivered,  too,  with  emphasis  and 
admiration,  of  Herodotus. J  We  have  that  of  Pausanias,  in  a 
later  age,  more  generally  given,  and  rendered  more  remarkable 
by  his  admitting  the  prosperity  of  Athens,  while  he  affirms  it  to 
be  an  exception  to  the  usual  effect  of  democratic  rule,§  and  the 

[*  See  a  remarkable  passage  in  point,  Demosth.  tfgog  As^tjvtjv.  xK\] 

t  Risorgimento  d'ltalia,  1  v.  .  183.  It  is  quite  a  dissertation.  Mette  orrore  la 
storia  di  quel  tempo,  che  par  quella  delle  tigri  e  degli  orsi ;  yet  arts,  commerce, 
schools,  population,  industry,  agriculture,  nourished.  188. 

|  Herod.  V.  78.  drfkoT  Ss  ou  xarJ  sv  p,ovvov  dXka  tfccvra;^,  y\  fo/jyogi'v]  w£  egi 
X£Wa  tftfoixSaibv.  The  expression  Irfriyogiri  is  remarkable  and  characteristic 
of  the  Greeks — like  tfa^ritfia  so  often  used  as  synonymous  with  liberty  in 
general. 

§  Pausan.  IV.  35,  3. 


422  CONSTITUTIONAL  HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 

unrivalled  intellectual  glory  of  the  "Demus  of  Erectheus"  is  there 
to  speak  for  itself.  The  former  of  those  writers  points  to  the 
start  in  the  career  of  wealth  and  power,  which  that  people  took 
as  soon  as  they  had  overthrown  the  tyranny  of  the  Pisistratides 
as  a  proof  how  excellent  a  thing  equality  is,  for  to  that  alone  he 
ascribes  the  change.  What  makes  their  brilliant  history  the 
more  striking  is  the  singular  contrast  it  presents  to  that  of  Spar- 
ta, blessed,  according  to  most  of  the  philosophers,  with  a  polity 
approaching  almost  to  ideal  perfection.  It  is  true,  periods  of 
undisturbed  order  and  happiness  do  not  furnish  the  most  inter- 
esting annals.  Yet  a  repose  too  deep  and  too  long  is  a  sort  of 
moral  death  ;  and  what  do  we  know  of  Sparta,  but  through  the 
history  of  other  states,  and  chiefly  of  her  rival  ?  Until  the  time 
of  Brasidas,  who  figured  for  a  brief  moment  in  the  Peloponnesian 
war,  she  never  produced  even  a  celebrated  general ;  and  Thucy- 
dides  strikingly  remarks,  that  were  she  then  to  pass  away,  like 
other  empires,  she  would  leave  no  monument  to  show  what  her 
grandeur  had  been,  while  Athens  was  covered  all  over  with  the 
trophies  of  genius  and  power.*  And,  in  truth,  what  monument 
of  her  art  has  been  celebrated  among  men  ?  what  mind,  in  after 
times,  has  been  elightened  by  her  wisdom?  what  bosom  awaken- 
ed by  her  eloquence?  what  ear  charmed  by  the  harmony  of  her 
song?  A  few  laconic  apophthegms  is  all  we  have  to  show  how 
the  Greek  nation,  par  excellence,  the  city  acknowledged  by  all 
contemporaries  as  the  head  of  the  Grecian  world,  thought,  felt, 
and  spoke.  While  her  rival,  with  her  crazy  constitution  and 
her  perpetual  disorders,  was  the  seat  of  civilization,  "native  to 
famous  wits  or  hospitable" — those  very  wits  by  whom  she  is  so 
unanimously  painted  as  the  mother  of  anarchy  and  misrule, — 
and  from  her  mouth  have  issued  forth 

Mellifluous  streams,  that  watered  all  the  schools 
Of  Academics,  old  and  new. 

Her  superiority  in  this  respect,  which  has  been  celebrated  by 
later  times,  in  every  form  of  eulogy,  does  not  escape  Pericles  in 
the  panegyrical  orations  ascribed  to  him  by  the  great  historian, 
and  there  is  another  praise  which  he  justly  claims  for  the  capital 
of  democracy.  Not  only  was  she  crowned,  at  home,  with  pros- 
perity and  glory,  but,  although  continually  guilty  in  her  federal 
relations  of  flagrant  injustice,  and  often  of  most  barbarous  and 
bloody  cruelties,  yet  that  city  was,  as  he  alleges,  compared  with 
the  rest  of  Greece,  the  school  of  humanity,  and  of  fraternity 
among  nations.  This  spirit  is,  in  its  perfection,  the  peculiar  cha- 
racteristic and  the  great  triumph  of  Christianity.  The  opening 
to  the  whole  earth  of  the  doors  of  the  temple,  hitherto  closed 
upon  all  but  the  descendants  of  Abraham,  was  the  work  of  the 

*L.  I.  c.  10. 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ATHENS.  423 

"Son  of  Man,"  and  the  apostle  of  the  gentiles  was  emphatically 
the  evangelist  of  a  New  Dispensation.  All  antiquity  was  influ- 
enced by  a  bigotry  of  race,  more  or  less  intense  and  exclusive. 
The  Spartans  were  even  more  remarkable  than  the  Jews,  for  their 
aversion  to  foreigners,  and  their  avoidance  of  all  commerce  with 
them  (fsv>jXa<ria.)  Rome  was  only  comparatively,  not  absolutely 
free  from  this  prejudice.  But  generally  speaking,  in  the  ancient 
world,  citizenship  was  an  affair  of  race,  and,  in  more  senses  than 
one,  the  boundaries  of  the  state  and  of  the  world  were  the  same 
spatium  est  urbis  et  orbis  idem.  Athens,  too,  admitted  to  the 
privileges  of  the  commonwealth  only  those  born  of  parents 
both  of  whom  were  citizens,  and  who  had  been  united  in  lawful 
marriage  ;  but  the  rule  was  not  enforced  with  so  much  rigor  as 
elsewhere,  and  many  special  exceptions  were  made  to  it.  Then 
her  maritime  position  and  habits,  as  well  as  her  necessities,  ren- 
dered her  in  some  degree  commercial.  She  encouraged  the  re- 
sidence of  foreigners  of  all  classes,  especially  of  merchants, 
(metcBci).  They  were,  it  is  true,  (and  this  reveals  the  spirit  we 
have  just  alluded  to,)  in  an  inferior  condition  before  the  law — 
they  had  no  persona  stomdi  in  judicio,  and  transacted  their  most 
important  business  in  the  name  and  under  the  protection  of  a 
guardian.  They  were,  also,  subjected  to  a  poll-tax,  the  price  of 
their  privileges,  and,  if  they  failed  to  pay  it,  or  were  found  guilty 
of  voting  as  citizens,  were  liable  to  be  sold,  and  were  in  fact  not 
unfrequently  sold  as  slaves.*  Still  they  were,  on  the  whole,  pro- 
tected and  favored  by  the  manners,  and  so  great  were  the  attrac- 
tions of  the  city  for  strangers,  that,  according  to  Bockh's  calcula- 
tions, they  composed  fully  one-third  of  its  free  population.  They 
constituted,  principally,  the  moneyed  and  mercantile  classes. 
In  short,  commerce  proved  there,  as  every  where  else,  a  mighty 
humanizer,  while,  by  the  fortunes  acquired  in  such  pursuits,  it 
enabled  obscure  individuals  to  eclipse  the  old  families,  and  be- 
came at  the  same  time,  as  usual,  quite  as  mighty  a  leveller. 
These  effects  were  visible  in  every  thing  ;  even  their  slaves  were 
better  protected  by  the  laws,  and  more  indulgently  treated,  than 
in  any  other  city  of  Greece.t  Besides  the  favor  shown  to  foreign 
merchants  in  the  Athenian  courts  of  judicature,  numerous  proxe- 
noi  abroad,  performing  functions  analogous  to  those  of  modern 
consuls,  kept  up  in  some  degree  the  spirit  of  amity  with  foreign 
nations,  and  the  first  foundations  of  public  law  were  laid  in  trea- 
ties of  commerce  (symbola)  concluded  with  other  states. 

But,  in  making  up  an  opinion  upon  the  subject  before  us,  we 
must,  in  the  first  place,  carefully  distinguish  the  period  that 

[*  Aristoph.  Acharn.  48.  ou)(y^a  *"wv  a&truv. — See  a  passage  worth  citing 
Aristoph.  Ran.  609.  sqq.  compared  with  v.  716.  sqq.] 

[f  Demosth,  xowu  Mei<5.,  yet  see  the  horrid  story  ^Esch.  c.  Tim.] 


424  CONSTITUTIONAL  HISTORY  OP  GREECE. 

precedes  the  Peloponnesian  war,  from  that  subsequent  to  the 
breaking  out  of  that  demoralizing  struggle.  Then,  the  remark 
already  cited  from  Professor  Wachsmuth,  must  be  borne  in  mind. 
The  early  opinions  and  legislation  of  Athens  were  considered 
in  later  times  as  aristocratic,  and  they  undoubtedly  were  so  in 
reference  to  the  new  standard.  Not  only  the  laws  of  Draco,  so 
famous  for  their  stern  and  almost  savage  spirit,  but  the  constitu- 
tion of  Solon  and  Cleisthenes,  which  was  confessedly  a  compro- 
mise between  the  noble  families  and  the  body  of  the  people,  still 
restrained  and  repressed  the  latter  exceedingly.  So,  the  great 
events  of  the  Persian  war,  though  they  elevated  the  lower  order, 
whose  share  in  the  glory  of  the  contest  seemed  fairly  to  entitle 
them  to  a  corresponding  share  in  the  administration  of  the  com- 
monwealth, still  exercised,  as  great  events  always  do,  a  most 
salutary  discipline  over  the  public  mind.  The  Areopagus,  of 
whose  influence  and  authority  we  have  already  spoken,  gave, 
for  some  time,  a  high  tone  to  the  whole  government.  The  spirit 
of  democracy,  it  is  true,  was  continually  gaining  ground,  but  it 
did  so  slowly.  Aristides  yielded  to  it  when  he  caused  the 
Archonship  to  be  made  accessible  to  all.  Pericles,  throughout 
his  whole  administration,  studied  to  keep  the  people  quiet  by 
exciting  their  ambition,  flattering  their  pride,  and  indulging  their 
more  reasonable  desires,  and  he  succeeded  so  effectually  in  his 
purpose,  that  Thucydides  pronounces  the  government  under  his 
lead,  substantially  the  reign  of  a  single  man.  It  must  be  re- 
marked, (for  the  fact  is  a  most  important  one,  though  we  can  do 
no  more  here  than  point  it  out,)  that  he  was  all  the  while  extend- 
ing the  empire  of  Athens,  and  purging  the  city  of  the  description 
of  people  most  likely  to  create  trouble,  by  establishing  colo- 
nies of  them  in  the  conquered  territory,  (Cleruchiae),  at  the 
same  time  that  he  lavished  upon  the  amusements  of  the  resident 
populace  the  treasures  of  the  whole  maritime  confederacy.  His 
high  birth,  his  imposing  presence,  his  mighty  eloquence,  his 
commanding  abilities,  his  elevated  character,  his  profound  and 
cautious  policy,  and  above  all,  his  uniform  success,  together  with 
the  real  prosperity  of  the  country  within — all  conspired  to  pro- 
duce that  mitigated  and  rational  democracy  on  which,  as  we 
have  seen,  he  has  pronounced,  in  the  pages  of  Thucydides,  so 
brilliant  a  panegyric.  The  appearance  on  the  public  stage  of 
such  a  creature  as  Cleon,  immediately  after  the  death  of  that 
mighty  man,  was  a  new  era.  The  very  people  whom  he  misled, 
laughed  at  the  swaggering  folly  of  the  upstart,  (such  is  the  tes- 
timony of  the  historian,*)  who  did  not  shrink  from  a  comparison 
with  his  majestic  predecessor.  Now  the  glory  of  Athens,  as  its 
power,  was  at  its  height  under  the  administration  of  Pericles, 
who  reaped  the  harvest  sown  by  the  generations  that  preceded 
*  See  the  graphic  description,  Thucyd.  IV.  28. 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OP1  ATHENS.  425 

him.  They  both  decayed  with  the  decay  of  morality  and  order; 
and  our  only  surprise  henceforth  is  that  the  downfall  was  not 
even  more  rapid  than  it  really  was.  But  we  have  already  spoken 
of  the  character  of  the  age  in  which  the  mind  of  Thucydides, 
and  so  many  others  of  the  same  calibre,  were  formed.  The 
impulse,  given  to  the  people  by  the  heroic  spirit  and  marvellous 
triumphs  of  the  Persian  war,  and  the  abilities  of  Miltiades,  The- 
mistocles,  and  Cimon,  continued  to  act  upon  their  conduct  and 
opinions,  even  amidst  the  crimes  and  disasters  of  the  Pelopon- 
nesian  struggle,  and  it  was  nearly  a  century  after  the  death  of 
Pericles,  before  the  nefarious  demagogues  that  succeeded  him 
had  completely  destroyed  the  democracy. 

It  is  not  our  purpose  to  pursue  the  subject  any  farther  at  pres- 
ent. We  refer  our  readers,  if  they  are  disposed  to  do  so,  to  the 
books  at  the  head  of  this  article.  We  cannot  consent,  however, 
to  close  our  observations,  without  adding  some  suggestions  that 
appear  to  us  entitled  to  the  gravest  consideration  of  all  who 
would  study,  to  any  practical  good  purpose,  the  Constitutional 
History  of  Greece. 

I.  Nothing' is  so  apt  to  mislead  in  these  inquiries,  as  the  abuse 
of  language.  The  application  of  familiar  terms  to  objects  ap- 
parently the  same,  but  really,  in  every  essential  particular,  widely 
different  from  those  we  are  accustomed  to  designate  by  them, 
has  been  the  source  of  infinite  error  and  confusion.  There  can 
be  no  more  striking  example  of  what  we  mean,  than  the  usual 
classification  of  governments  in  three  simple  forms.  We  speak 
familiarly  of  monarchy,  aristocracy,  and  democracy,  as  if  they 
were  precisely  defined  and  widely  distinguished,  instead  of  being 
susceptible  of  endless  modifications,  and  running  continually 
into  one  another.  Nothing,  for  instance,  is  more  inevitable,  than 
that  a  wild  and  turbulent  democracy  will  take  a  monarchical  or 
an  oligarchical  shape ;  we  do  not  say  that  it  will  end,  merely,  in 
such  a  shape,  but  that  it  will  exist  in  it,  as  long  as  it  exists  at 
all ;  as,  for  example,  in  a  committee  of  public  safety,  or  a  popular 
dictator.  Nothing  is  more  sure,  in  like  manner,  than  that  a 
savage  despotism,  naturally  degenerates,  as  the  Roman  Empire 
did,  into  a  military  democracy,  or  oligarchy,  (as  the  case  may 
be,)  of  the  army  or  the  Praetorian  guards.  This  is  the  very 
law  of  their  being.  To  call  a  government  democratical,  because 
its  organization  is  apparently  popular,  is  to  forget  that  both  Caesar 
and  Pisistratus — acknowledged  chiefs  of  the  democratical  parties 
of  their  day — left  every  thing  in  the  forms  of  the  Roman  and 
Athenian  constitutions,  exactly  as  they  found  them ;  and  that 
Bonaparte,  at  Marengo,  was  quite  as  much  an  autocrat,  as  Napo- 
leon at  Austerlitz  or  Friedland.  And  so,  vice  versa,  Otho  and 
Vitellius.  or  the  Gordians  and  the  Maximins,  were  no  more  mas- 
ters of  their  empire,  than  Clovis  was  of  his  Franks,  or  the  Bas- 
vol.  i. — 54 


426  CONSTITUTIONAL  HISIORY  OP  GREECE. 

tard  and  his  sons  of  their  Norman  adventurers.  It  is  in  this 
respect,  chiefly,  that  political  systems  need  to  be  recast,  and 
Herder  is  right  in  calling  for  a  new  classification  and  another 
Montesquieu. 

But,  without  expatiating  upon  a  topic  which  needs  and  deserves 
an  elaborate  exposition,  we  must  remark  that  democracy,  in  the 
sense  now  attached  to  the  word,  never  existed  at  all  in  antiquity, 
no  more  than  in  modem  European  history,  for  the  revolutionary 
governments  of  France  cannot  be  treated  as  an  exception.  We 
understand  by  democracy,  as  the  term  is  now  used,  the  enjoyment 
of  perfect  numerical  equality,  both  before  the  law  and  in  the 
spirit  of  society,  and  that  equality,  recognised  as  one  of  the 
universal,  inalienable  rights  of  man.  This  democracy,  carried 
out  to  its  logical  consequences,  is  at  war  with  every  thing  savor- 
ing of  a  distinction  of  castes,  races,  and  nations.  The  French 
did  carry  it  out  logically,  and  they  inscribed  it  upon  their  revo- 
lutionary banner  in  three  words,  each  of  which  is  essential  to 
the  definition  of  it — "liberty,  equality,  fraternity."  It  is  the  spirit 
of  primitive  Christianity.  Its  apostles  are  tent-makers  and  fish- 
ermen. It  takes  the  weak  things  of  the  world  to  confound  the 
wise — its  priests  are  often  the  lowest  of  the  people  who  are  not 
Levites.  and  what  was  a  scandal  in  Israel  is  our  boast.  We  have 
canonized  in  our  calendar,  we  have  enrolled  forever  in  the  capitol, 
a  printer  and  a  shoemaker,  (to  name  no  more,)  and  we  challenge 
history  for  two  names  more  worthy  of  a  place  in  it  than  Franklin 
and  Sherman.  So  with  regard  to  the  foreigner,  it  breaks  down 
all  barriers — Jew  and  Gentile,  Tros,  Tyriusve — all  at  the  same 
communion  table.  Now  this  was  never  the  opinion  of  antiquity. 
They  all  believed  in  race,  and  reverenced  it,  (as  we  have  said). 
As  between  nation  and  nation,  their  philosophers  assume  it  as 
one  of  their  data  that  some  are  born  to  command,  and  others 
to  serve  and  obey ;  and  this  idea  was  the  very  basis,  not  of  their 
speculations  only,  but  of  their  whole  social  state.  But,  even 
within  the  bounds  of  their  own  races,  they  admitted  of  family 
distinction  ;  indeed,  Muller  affirms  that  the  maintenance  of  fami- 
lies was  the  great  cardinal  policy  of  the  ancient  Greek  States.* 
A  striking  proof  of  the  strength  of  this  feeling  is  found  in  the 
necessity  acknowledged  by  all  their  reformers,  of  abolishing  old 
tribes  and  establishing  new  ones,t  or  substituting  for  them  other 
divisions  and  classes.  Thus  Solon  and  Servius  Tullius  turned 
the  aristocracy  of  races  into  a  timocracy,  thus  admitting  into 
the  body-politic  the  richer  part  of  the  excluded  castes.  This 
was  a  concession  made  by  the  old  families  to  a  power  no  longer 
to  be  resisted,  but  it  was  at  first,  as  we  have  seen  Professor 
Wachsmuth  affirming,  no  more  than  a  concession.     Of  course, 

•  Dorians,  v.  II.  p.  107,  (trans.) 
t  Ibid.  G3,  cf.  Arist.  Pol. 


THE   DEMOCRACY  OF  ATHENS.  427 

in  later  times,  the  principle  of  equality  among  citizens  gained 
ground  continually  ;  but  yet  at  Athens,  even  in  times  of  the  most 
licentious  mob-rule,  to  be  descended  of  a  great  house  was  an 
advantage,  with  a  view  to  public  consideration,  and  even  of 
mere  popular  favor.*  Not  to  speak  of  Pisistratus,  Cleisthenes, 
Miltiades,  Cimon — it  did  much  in  that  way  both  for  Pericles 
and  Alcibiades.t  The  rise  of  Themistocles  to  such  a  height  of 
political  influence  had  surprised  many,  notwithstanding  his  un- 
rivalled abilities,  because  he  was  meanly  born}  on  the  mother's 
side.  The  pride  of  the  Dorian  race  in  their  descent  from  Her- 
cules, and  the  exactness  with  which  they  preserved  their  pedigree, 
are  well  known.  But,  even  at  Athens,  there  were  at  all  periods 
hereditary  priesthoods  in  certain  families,  such  as  the  Eumolpidae 
and  the  Ceryces  ;  and  the  influence  of  superstition  and  priestcraft, 
there,  was  exceedingly  important.§ 

With  this  haughty  spirit  of  race  was  combined  another  spirit 
akin  to  it,  perhaps  originally  derived  from  it,  which  made  them 
look  down  with  contempt  upon  all  mechanical  trades  and  pur- 
suits, and  treat  with  no  great  respect  (however  they  may  have 
otherwise  eneouraged  it)  commercial  and  manufacturing  indus- 
try. Herodotus  is  one  authority  out  of  a  thousand  for  this,  and 
he  mentions  Corinth  as  a  singular  exception  to  a  universal  rule.ll 
Yet  Solon  in  his  legislation  has  enjoined  industry  as  a  duty  on 
his  citizens,  while  Lycurgus  interdicted  to  his  every  sort  of  oc- 
cupation (agriculture  itself  included)  but  war,  and  the  exercises 
that  prepare  the  body  for  it.  Pericles,  in  the  important  discourse 
so  often  referred  to  above,  boasts  of  this  respect  for  honorable 
industry  as  one  of  the  advantages  of  Athens,  and  claims,  even  for 
the  laboring  classes  in  that  city,  not  only  an  interest  but  a  com- 
petent degree  of  skill  in  public  affairs.^  But  the  opinion  which 
consigned  to  the  slave  the  labors  of  the  peasant  and  the  handi- 
craftsman, and  excluded  from  the  administration  of  political  af- 
fairs those  who  had  no  time  to  devote  to  liberal  pursuits,  was 
too  deeply  rooted  in  the  constitution  and  the  habits  of  society  to 
be  controlled  by  positive  legislation.  They  are  systematically 
shut  out  from  all  share  of  the  commonwealth  by  Aristotle,  and 
the  works  of  the  other  philosophers  abound  in  precepts  and  sen- 
tences of  the  same  import.  Herodotus  hesitates  whether  he  shall 
trace  up  these  notions  to  the  castes  of  Egypt,  seeing  they  pre- 
vail every  where,  not  only  in  Greece,  but  among  the  barbarians. 
It  is  indeed  a  prevalent  opinion  among  philologists,  countenanced 

[*  Demosth.  xara  Msib.  t8'] 
[t  Plut.  in  Lycurgo.  (Oratore.)] 

[J   fsvja,    a   common   place    reproach   against  such    men.     Aristoph.    A- 
charn  492.  and  704.  A  v.  11.  764.  1627.  31.  762.  1296.  Ran.  418.  681.  1533.] 
§  Creuzer,  Symbolik  IV.  c.  8,  §  3.  cf.  Plut.  Theseus. 
II  L.  II.  166,  7. 
IT  L.  II.  c.  40. 


42S  CONSTITUTIONAL  HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 

by  high  authority  among  the  ancients,  that  the  original  Attic 
tribes  did  savor  of  a  distinction,  not  only  of  race  but  of  occupa- 
tion. But,  without  having  recourse  to  any  historical  explanation 
of  that  sort,  this  aversion  to  manual  labor  marks,  as  we  see  in 
Tacitus'  account  of  the  Germans,  all  warrior  tribes  among  whom 
the  sword  is  a  more  honorable,  as  well  as  easy  instrument  of  ac- 
quisition, than  the  plough,  and  the  spear  than  the  pruning  hook. 
Piracy  was  in  high  repute  among  the  older  Greeks  universally, 
as  Thucydides  remarks,  and  there  were,  even  in  his  days,  some 
parts  of  the  country  in  which  it  had  lost  none  of  its  attractions 
or  its  respectability. 

This  discredit,  thrown  upon  labor,  produced  important  politi- 
cal consequences.  It  prevented,  for  instance,  the  forming  of  that 
great  middle  class,  which  is  the  surest  basis  of  social  order  every 
where.*  On  the  other  hand,  it  engendered  necessarily  an  idle, 
needy,  rapacious,  and  profligate  populace,  haunting  the  courts  of 
law,  and  the  general  assembly  for  the  sake  of  the  miserable  fees 
paid  for  that  sort  of  service,  hungry  after  confiscation  and  forfei- 
ture, living  from  hand  to  mouth  on  the  alms,  the  bribes,  or  the 
plunder  of  the  rich,  or  on  distributions  of  the  public  revenues 
obtained  for  them  by  the  demagogues,  to  whom  the  poverty  of 
the  multitude  was  wealth  and  power.t  Here,  too.  Christianity 
introduced  a  new  principle,  or  renewed  a  right  spirit.  It  en- 
joined and  consecrated  labor ;  it  made  honest  poverty  honorable  ; 
it  exalted  the  humble  and  lowly.  "We  beseech  you,  brethren, 
that  you  study  to  be  quiet,  and  to  do  your  own  business,  and  to 
work  with  your  own  hands,  as  we  commanded  you."£  The  or- 
der of  St.  Benedict,  by  establishing  a  system  of  free  labor,  on  the 
principles  thus  enjoined  upon  the  primitive  church,  created,  as 
Herder  remarks,  a  new  era  in  Europe. 

II.  At  once  a  cause  and  an  effect  of  this  contempt  for  the  arts 
of  industry  was  the  universal  prevalence  of  domestic  slavery, 
and  that  not  only  as  an  actual  institution,  but  as  an  essential  ele- 
ment of  civilized  society.  We  have  referred  to  Aristotle's  doc- 
trine upon  that  subject,  when  we  spoke  of  all  labor  being  con- 
signed to  the  bondman. §  With  him  the  relation  of  master  and 
slave  is  just  as  indispensable  in  every  well  ordered  state,  as  that 
of  husband  and  wife,  or  the  other  domestic  relations.  He  de- 
velops, systematically,  and  without  hinting  the  shadow  of  a 
doubt,  the  utility  of  the  institution,  and  its  consonancy  to  right 
reason.     Different  races  of  men  had  been  created  for  the  purposes 

*  Best  government,  where  roXu  to  /jlso'cv.  Arist.  Pol.  IV  11.  So,  at  Rome 
the  same  thing  occurred.  Minore  indies  plebe  ingenua,  says  Tacitus.  It  was 
the  aim  of  the  Gracchi  to  counteract  this  tendency  of  the  system  in  Italy. 

t  So  at  Rome.  Ilia  concionalis  hirudo  aerarii,  misera  et  jejuna  plebecula.  Cic  . 
Three  hundred  thousand  received  public  corn  in  the  time  of  Augustus. 

j  Thessalon.  I,  iv.  10,  11.     lb.  II.  iii.  10.  I.  Cor.  iii.  8. 

[§  See  a  remarkable  place,  Aristoph.  Ecclesias  651.  19.] 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ATHENS.  429 

of  a  high  social  improvement,  some  to  serve,  others  to  command 
some  to  provide  a  community  with  the  means  of  subsistence  by- 
manual  labor  and  the  useful  arts,  others  to  think  for  it,  to  fight 
for  it,  to  embellish  and  enlighten  it,  by  genius  and  philosophy. 
The  last  could  only  be  well  done  by  those  who  had  nothing  else 
to  do.  The  exquisite  organization  of  the  Greek  showed,  he 
thought,  an  aristocracy  of  nature,  to  which  the  barbarian  should 
do  a  willing  homage  and  yield  a  cheerful  obedience.  Those 
keen  perceptions,  those  refined  sensibilities,  those  organs  so  sus- 
ceptible to  the  impressions  of  beauty  and  melody,  those  thoughts 
so  elevated  and  aspiring,  that  wonderful  intelligence,  combining 
whatever  was  most  abstract  and  most  profound  in  metaphysical 
speculation,  and  subtile  and  shadowy  in  the  distinctions  of  logic 
with  whatever  was  most  sublime,  and  most  rapturous  in  poetical 
inspiration,  creating  forms,  in  which  all  ages  have  recognised 
and  adored  the  image  of  ideal  beauty — could  these  be  expected 
of  men  brought  up  to  toil  and  sweat,  immersed  in  grovelling 
cares,  condemned  to  hard  labor  for  life?  Their  civilization 
was  so  exquisite,  that  a  change  in  their  music  was  a  revolution 
in  politics,  and  incredible  as  it  may  appear,  no  subject  is  more 
gravely  treated  by  their  wisest  men,  than  this  connection  be- 
tween moods  and  measures  of  harmony,  and  the  morals  of  a 
people.*  How  could  such  refinement  exist,  but  in  a  race  not 
only  most  happily  constituted,  but  educated,  consecrated,  and 
set  apart,  from  earliest  infancy,  for  the  study  of  art  and  the  con- 
templation of  the  beautiful  ?  Accordingly,  one  of  the  soundest 
thinkers,  as  well  as  best  informed  writers  of  later  times,  affirms 
that,  beyond  all  doubt,  the  unapproachable  excellence  of  the 
Greeks  in  art  and  literature  was  in  some  degree  due  to  the  exis- 
tence of  domestic  slavery  among  them,  and  could  not  have  exist- 
ed without  it.f 

However  that  may  be,  those  commonwealths,  and  even  the 
most  democratical  of  them,  were  as  close  oligarchies  as  those  form- 
ed by  the  Franks  in  Gaul,  or  the  Normans  in  England.  Bockh 
reckons  the  whole  number  of  slaves  in  Attica  at  about  365,000, 
to  95,000  citizens,  and  45,000  resident  foreigners.  In  Sparta  the 
disproportion  was  probably  still  greater,  for  besides  the  Helots, 
the  Periseci  (or  Lacedaemonians  properly  so  called)  were  in  a 
state  of  inferiority  and  dependence  not  very  far  above  the  villen- 
age  of  the  middle  ages.  The  Doric  race  was  literally,  as  has 
been  said  of  their  successors  the  Turks,  encamped  in  the  midst 
of  subjugated  enemies.  Indeed,  Isocrates  uses  this  very  term  in 
regard  to  them.t  All  intimate  union,  as  by  marriage  for  instance, 
nay,  all  social  intercourse  with  the  conquered,  was  forbidden  to 


*  See  a  remarkable  passage,  Cic.  de  Legib.  II.  15. 
t  Heeren  Ideen  Europaische  Volker,  10  absch. 


X  Archidamas,  p.  314. 


430  CONSTITUTIONAL  HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 

the  conquerors.  Doris  amara  suam  non  intermisceat  undam. 
A  more  jealous,  barbarous,  grinding,  inexorable  despotism  never 
existed,  than  that  exercised  by  the  Spartans  over  their  subjugated 
brethren,  (for  so  they  were) — who,  be  it  remarked,  were  slaves, 
not  of  individuals,  but  of  the  whole  community,  by  far  the  worst 
form  of  bondage.*  The  domestic  habitudes,  the  personal  quali- 
ties and  affections  that  always  mitigate  that  relation  between 
man  and  man,  and  rendered  it  at  Athens  proverbially  light  and 
easy,  even  to  insubordination,  can  have  no  effect  on  masses,  gov- 
erned only  by  fixed  laws,  and  an  inexorable  state-necessity.  But, 
although  the  situation  of  Sparta  was,  in  this  respect,  somewhat 
peculiar,  and  the  interdicting  to  him  all  business  whatever,  con- 
demned the  citizen  to  a  life  of  faineantise,  from  which  war  was 
the  only  refuge ;  yet  the  same  effects,  though  in  a  less  degree, 
were  produced  by  the  same  cause  in  every  Greek  commonwealth. 
A  hundred  thousand  Athenian  citizens  lorded  it  over  more  than 
four  times  their  number  of  slaves  and  metics — not  to  speak  of 
their  foreign  or  federal  dominion,  by  which  they  were  invested 
with  jurisdiction,  civil  and  political,  over  the  majority  of  the 
Greeks.  Was  this  democracy  at  all  different  from  the  feudal 
peerage  of  which  we  have  spoken  ? 

Another  important  reflection  naturally  occurs  to  us  here.  One 
of  the  most  difficult,  if  not  the  most  difficult,  of  all  social  pro- 
blems, is,  how  far,  in  a  country  fully  peopled,  as  every  part  of 
Europe  now  is,  the  laboring  classes,  those,  in  other  words,  who 
subsist  upon  wages,  and  depend  upon  their  daily  labor  for  their 
daily  bread,  can  be  admitted  to  a  share  in  the  commonwealth, 
consistently  with  the  preservation  of  order,  under  a  limited  gov- 
ernment. Our  situation  is  altogether  anomalous ;  we  have  no 
poor,  and  centuries  must  elapse  before  we  shall  feel  the  evils  of 
an  excess  in  that  way — we  have  but  the  beginnings  of  a  popula- 
tion ;  universal  suffrage,  therefore,  and  other  institutions  which 
may  be  attended  with  benefit,  or  at  any  rate,  with  but  little  evil, 
here,  would  infallibly  lead  to  civil  war  and  military  despotism 
in  France,  or  even  in  England.  Is  this  to  be  forever  so  ?  Is 
that  "slavery  of  the  whites,"  which  the  great  prophet  and  apostle 
of  the  poor,  the  Abbe  de  Lamennais,  pronounces  so  much  worse 
than  the  bondage  of  the  blacks,  the  unchangeable  condition  of 
things?  or  when,  how,  how  far,  is  it  to  be  susceptible  of  correc- 
tion? The  masses  in  Europe  are  called  free,  yet  they  every 
where  receive  the  law,  and  their  destinies  and  those  of  their 
children  are  in  the  hands  of  their  task-masters.  They  are,  in 
truth,  with  few  exceptions,  a  permanently  degraded  caste  ;  and 
are,  like  the  Helots,  slaves,  not  of  individuals,  but  of  whole 
communities.     On  this  subject  the  history  of  antiquity  throws 

*  This  is  well  developed  by  J.  F.  Reitemeir  Sklaverey,  u.  s.  w.  in  Griechenland, 
p.  123. 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ATHENS.  431 

no  light.  Their  philosophers  solved  the  dreadful  problem,  we 
have  stated,  against  the  majority  of  mankind,  and  doomed  the 
many  to  serve  perpetually  for  the  well-being  and  improvement 
of  the  few. 

III.  Immediately  connected  with  the  foregoing  remarks,  is 
another  that  must  never  be  lost  sight  of  in  reading  the  history 
of  the  ancient  commonwealths.  War  was  the  permanent,  and 
so  to  speak,  the  natural  and  ordinary  state  of  things  among 
them.  In  modern  times  peace  is  the  rule,  war  the  exception  ; 
among  the  ancients,  it  was  just  the  contrary.  The  presumption 
was  against  the  foreigner,  alien  ne  was  alien  enemy,  and,  unless 
protected  by  express  treaty,  he  was  not  protected  at  all.  Kid- 
napping was  at  all  times  a  common  and  incorrigible  evil  of  an- 
tiquity, and  piracy,  as  we  have  remarked,  once  held  every  where 
in  as  much  honor  as  war  itself,  never  ceased  to  be  the  law  of 
some  nations,  and  the  occasional  practice  of  all.*  Revolutions 
in  government,  and  other  social  disorders,  always  filled  the  land 
and  the  sea  with  banditti  of  this  sort. 

If  we  consider  what  were  the  laws  of  war  in  those  times,  we 
shall  not  at  all'  wonder  that  such  effects  upon  the  opinions  and 
conduct  of  mankind  ensued  upon  the  perpetual  repetition  of  it. 
Those  laws  justified  almost  any  violence  upon  an  enemy.  They 
breathe  the  exterminating  fury  of  savage  life;  it  is  Achilles 
avenging  the  death  of  Patroclus.  The  Homeric  poems,  which 
present,  in  many  respects,  a  moral  picture  less  disgusting  than 
Greek  history,  in  what  were  called  more  civilized  ages,t  were 
true  to  nature  in  this,  as  in  every  thing  else,  and  no  very  impor- 
tant change  took  place  subsequently  in  the 

xyjfk'  oV  av^wtfcitfj  tfs'Xej,  tgjv  ag'v  a\ur\.\ — 11.  ix.  592. 

The  heroes  of  the  Iliad  pursue  their  enemy  not  only  to  death, 
but  beyond  it.  They  butcher  him  in  cold  blood,  cut  off  his  head 
and  set  it  upon  a  pole,  drag  his  body  at  their  chariot  wheels, 
and  cast  it  forth  to  be  devoured  by  the  dogs  and  the  fowls  of  the 
air.  His  wife,  though  a  princess,  becomes  the  slave  of  the  vic- 
tor— his  children  have  their  brains  dashed  out,  or  are  reduced  to 
the  same  condition.  Fields  were  laid  waste,  orchards  and  forests 
cut  down  or  burnt  up,  towns  sacked  and  razed  to  the  earth.  In 
short,  on  the  principle  of  lawyers,  that  omne  majus  in  se  continet 
minus,  the  man  of  blood  who  went  forth  to  destroy^  forfeited, 
with  life,  whatever  was  his  to  the  object  of  his  cruel  hostility ; 

[*  See  the  hist.  ( ;  )  of  Dionysius  the  Tyrant  in  Diod.  Sic.  1.  15.] 

t  Athence.  1.  V.  12.  15.  19.  20.  Homer  says  the  poor  and  the  stranger  are  un- 
der Jove's  protection,  a  sentiment  too  refined  for  subsequent  times. 

[J  See  the  Chor.  JEschylus,  Sept.  adv.  Thebas  v.  323  seqq.,  otftfct  xax'. 
Arist.  Rhet.] 

[  §  Sov'hsia  quasi  (SsiXsjcc.  Plut.  Gryl.  IV.] 


4.32  CONSTITUTIONAL  HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 

and  no  Grotius  had  yet  taught  mankind  to  make  war  only  the 
means  of  peace,  and  the  discipline  of  knightly  courage  ancl 
courtesy.* 

The  consequence  of  this  important  fact  was  that  all  the  insti- 
tutions of  antiquity  were  adapted  to  war,  not  only  as  an  occa- 
sional event,  but  as  the  prime  concern  of  social  life.  To  recur 
to  the  analogy  of  the  savage  state  :  like  our  Indians,  they  trained 
up  their  young  men  to  the  arts  of  destruction,  and,  if  they  failed 
them,  then  to  meet  death  and  tortures,  "exile,  and  ignominy,  and 
bonds,  the  sentence  of  their  conqueror,"  with  patience  and  forti- 
tude. This  explains  their  mode  of  discipline  and  education. 
The  infant,  who  promised  to  be  puny  or  deformed,  was  condemned 
as  unfit  to  live.  Infanticide  was  universal — it  was  even  a  sort 
of  mercy.  The  infant  warrior,  in  the  myth,  was  dipped  by  his 
mother  in  one  of  the  rivers  of  hell — he  was  hardened  by  exposure, 
invigorated  by  exertion,  made  nimble  and  supple  by  exercise. 
The  gymnasium  was  thus  an  indispensable  institution,  and  we 
no  longer  wonder  at  the  figure  it  makes  in  the  philosophy  of 
Plato.t  The  glory  of  the  Olympic  stadium  was  a  part  of  the 
same  system — nor  is  it  without  grave  reasons  of  state  that  such 
an  interest  was  felt  by  the  most  cultivated  people  in  quoit-pitch- 
ing, leaping,  wrestling,  boxing,  and  such  like  exercises,  or  that 
the  genius  of  the  first,  beyond  comparison,  of  lyric  poets,  should 
have  immortalized  the  happy  victors  who  turned  up  the  Olympic 
dust  with  their  glowing  chariot  wheel  s.J  A  stoical  apathy  with- 
in accompanied  this  external  discipline,  and  steeled  the  breast 
equally  against  the  cries  of  the  vanquished  and  the  insults  of 
the  haughty  conqueror.  The  principle  of  slavery,  as  a  substitute 
for  death  in  battle,  being  universally  recognised  and  acquiesced 
in,  the  captive  knew  his  doom,  and  met  it  without  a  murmur. 
Greeks,  it  is  true,  among  Greeks,  were  frequently,  perhaps  gene- 
rally, ransomed ;  but  that  was  an  exception  to  a  well  settled  rule, 
and  the  shocking  scenes  recorded  by  Thucydides  show  how 
little  such  could  be  counted  on.  There  was  nothing  to  secure 
any  part  of  Greek  society  against  the  most  cruel  reverses  of  the 
kind,  and  the  proudest  nobles,  the  first  gentlemen  and  ladies,  (if 
those  names  were  not  peculiarly  christian,)  might  look  forward 
with  melancholy  apprehension  to  the  chances  of  being  sold,  with 
their  delicate  children,   into  slavery,  and  being  made  to  writhe 

*  See  especially  the  frightful  picture  drawn  by  old  Priam,  1.  XXII.  60.  sqq.,  and 
compare  1.  XVIII.  175.  sqq.,  and  the  touching  story  of  the  Egyptian  king  Psam- 
menitus.  Herod.  III.  14. 

Yet  Aristotle — a  voice  crying  in  a  wilderness,  1.  VII.  15.  and  Isocrates,  Pana- 
then,  and  de  Pace,  hold  the  language  of  philosophy  and  humanity  on  this  subject. 
Plut.  Nicias. 

[t  See  a  passage  in  point.  Diod.  Sic.  xv.  50.  of  the  Thebans  preparing  for  their 
great  war  by  the  gymnasium.] 

l  For  the  importance  of  bodily  strength  in  ancient  warfare,  see  Plutarch's 
Life  of  Pelopidas,  who  seems  to  have  been  a  very  Paladin. 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ATHENS.  433 

under  the  scourge,  being  cast  into  mines  and  quarries,  or  com- 
pelled to  undergo  any  other  outrage  or  torture  at  the  pleasure  of 
a  barbarous  master.* 

It  is  plainly  impossible  to  do  justice  to  any  institution  of  an- 
tiquity, without  giving  its  due  weight  to  this  important  and  fun- 
damental consideration.  The  deeds  and  the  scenes  of  violence 
that  are  so  revolting  to  the  modern  reader,  made  by  no  means 
the  same  impression  on  a  Greek,  even  in  the  most  civilized  age. 
Witness  the  coolness  with  which  Thucydides  relates  so  many 
horrible  atrocities.  Gradually,  to  be  sure,  as  men  became  more 
accustomed  to  the  enjoyment  of  peace,  its  blessings  would  begin 
to  be  better  appreciated,  and  be  sometimes  extolled.  Isocrates 
speaks  in  this  vein,  and  Aristotle  was  beyond  his  age  in  that  as 
in  almost  all  things.  Athens,  from  being  the  ruling  city,  the 
seat  of  empire  for  half  a  century,  was  become  soft  and  luxurious, 
and  her  genius  turned  to  the  best  account  the  advantages  which 
her  power  gave  her.  She  was  the  torturer,  not  the  victim :  the 
mistress,  not  the  slave;  and  in  the  quiet  purchased  for  her  by 
her  naval  force,  and  paid  for  with  the  sufferings  of  others,  she 
learned  to  moralize  and  be  sentimental,  and  so  the  stern  spirit 
of  ancient  warfare  might  occasionally  be  censured  and  rebuked 
by  a  speculative  philosopher.  But  certainly  her  practical  men 
and  the  great  bulk  of  her  people  thought  of  the  rights  of  con- 
quest as  their  ancestors  had  thought.  Accordingly,  they  never 
affected  to  deny  or  palliate  the  fact,  that  their  federal  policy  was 
essentially  despotic.  They  set  up  the  tyrant's  plea  of  necessity, 
and  openly  relied  upon  the  right  of  the  strongest.  This  avowal 
repeatedly  occurs  in  Thucydides,  but  no  where  in  form  more 
cynical  and  odious,  than  in  the  answers  he  puts  into  the  mouths 
of  their  plenipotentiaries  in  the  curious  conference  they  are 
reported  to  have  held  with  the  representatives  of  the  besieged 
Melians.f  Their  practice,  too,  was  in  the  strictest  conformity 
with  their  principles,  and  Mitford  found  it  abundantly  easy  to 
exemplify  the  rapacity,  violence,  and  cruelty,  which  he  alleges 
to  be  inherent  in  democracy,  in  every  part  of  the  conduct  of 
Athens  towards  her  allies.  But  he  forgot  that  cruelty,  rapacity, 
and  violence,  were  the  characteristics  of  all  forms  of  government 
m  antiquity— that  they  infected  the  whole  spirit  of  society — that 
oligarchies  waged  perpetual  wart  with  the  people,  and  waged  it 
with  a  ferocity  nothing  short  of  infernal§ — that  single  tyrants 
perpetrated  habitually  such  horrible  excesses  as  throw  into  the 
shade  even  the  Eccelini  and  the  ViscOnti  of  the  middle  ages.  I! 

[♦According  to  Plutarch  the  victory  at  Leuctra  was  gained  by  bodily  strength — 
they  actually  wrestled.] 
t  1.  V.  87.  sqq. 

[t  Plut.  Lysander  B.  14. 19,  77.  Thebes— Odyss.  xi.  264.] 
§  Thucyd.  III.  SI,  2. 

II  Picture  of  a  petit  tyrant.    Plut.  Pelopidas,  c,  30.  Alexander  the  Thessalian, 
vol.  i. — 55 


434  CONSTITUTIONAL  HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 

We  refer,  for  a  singular  illustration  of  this  reverence  for  the 
right  of  the  strongest,  to  an  oration  of  Isocrates,  which  we  have 
had  more  than  one  occasion  to  cite.  The  old  rhetorician  had 
been  declaiming  against  Sparta  for  her  contempt  of  all  laws, 
and  her  remorseless  spirit  of  conquest,  and  exalting,  in  compari- 
son with  it,  the  more  humane  and  peaceful  conduct  of  Athens. 
He  had  gone  so  far  in  his  invective  that  he  felt  some  remorse  for 
his  intemperance — but  what  was  his  surprise  when,  on  consulting 
a  professed  partisan  of  that  state,  he  found  him  regarding  that 
declamation  as  only  an  artful  piece  of  irony,  and  the  pretended 
censures  as  really  the  highest  panegyric* 

IV.  Another  important  peculiarity  of  the  political  systems  of 
antiquity  was  the  idea,  so  opposite,  as  we  hinted  above,  to  the 
fundamental  principle  of  the  Feud,  and  consequently  to  the 
spirit  of  modern  governments,  that  the  individual  existed  only 
in  and  for  the  whole  society,  and  was  at  all  times  under  its  ab- 
solute control,  and  liable,  with  all  that  was  his.  to  be  sacrificed 
for  its  benefit. 

The  perpetual  war  in  which  the  cities,  as  a  refuge  from  ene- 
mies.t  had  their  origin,  and  which  converted  every  common- 
wealth into  a  sort  of  camp,  with  the  discipline  and  the  unity  of 
a  military  organization,  had  its  effect,  no  doubt,  in  producing 
this  state  of  opinion.  This,  it  is  true,  was  more  remarkably  the 
case  with  the  Dorian  states,  but,  in  spite  of  the  boast  of  Pericles 
in  the  oration  so  often  referred  to,  not  exclusively  so.  Thus,  the 
whole  organization  of  the  classes  and  centuries  at  Rome  was 
strictly  military,  and  political  rights  were  distributed  in  reference 
to  services  to  be  rendered  in  war.  It  was  so  with  the  constitu- 
tion established  by  Solon.  Now,  it  was  inevitable  that  an  idea 
so  fundamental  and  so  predominant  should  influence  all  the  opi- 
nions of  the  people,  and  their  whole  manner  of  being.  Accord- 
ingly, their  definition  of  a  state,  and  their  conception  of  the  ends 
of  the  social  union,  as  well  as  the  means  and  powers  by  which 
they  were  to  be  accomplished,  were  as  different  from  ours  as 
martial  law  is  from  the  usual  course  of  a  limited  government. 
In  our  times,  the  notion  is  beginning  more  and  more  to  prevail, 
that  the  less  governed  the  world  is,  consistently  with  the  preser- 
vation of  order,  the  better  for  it — that  society  is  to  be  looked  to  only 
for  protection  against  force  and  fraud,  and  that  the  individual  shall 
be  restricted  as  little  as  possible  in  the  enjoyment  of  his  liberty, 
the  pursuits  of  business,  and  the  comforts  of  personal  accommoda- 
tion. In  short,  amidst  the  perils  of  perpetual  war  among  the 
states  of  Greece,  the  salus  populi,  which  is  every  where  the 
supreme  law,  necessarily  superseded  all  others.  In  modern 
times,  where  war  is  only  an  episode — becoming  every  day  more 

*  Panathenaic.  Epilog. 

ft  Thftbes  Odyss.  xi.  264-5.  J 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ATHENS.  435 

rare,  and  at  the  worst,  confined  to  a  part  of  the  nation  omy — 
there  is  the  ease  and  the  careless  freedom  of  a  state  of  entire 
security. 

But  not  only  did  the  permanent  condition  of  the  ancient  com- 
monwealths lead  naturally  to  that  despotism  of  the  society  over 
the  individual,  but  the  peculiar  turn  of  the  Greek  mind  extended 
it  still  farther,  and  reduced  it  to  the  shape  of  a  theoretical  sys- 
tem. We  spoke,  in  the  former  part  of  these  remarks,  of  the  ideas 
of  political  justice  embodied  by  the  philosophers  in  their  Utopian 
commonwealths.  These  all,  from  Pythagoras  downwards,  re- 
gard a  state  as  a  body  politic,  organized  after  the  fashion  of  the 
natural  body,  with  a  variety  of  members  and  faculties  varying 
in  dignity,  but  each  indispensable  in  its  place,  and  all  co-opera- 
ting to  the  same  end,  the  health,  strength,  and  well-being  of  the 
whole,  under  the  absolute  control  of  one  will  and  understanding/ 
A  polity,  say  they,  is  the  soul  of  a  city,  and  stands  in  the  same 
relation  towards  it  as  reason  to  the  human  system.t  There 
ought,  therefore,  to  be  in  every  well  ordered  community  a  com- 
plete identity  of  interests,  an  entire  sympathy  between  all  the 
the  parts,  and  there  was  nothing  necessary  or  useful  to  the  whole 
which  it  had  not  a  perfect  right  to  exact  of  every  individual  in 
it.  It  was  on  this  principle,  that  sumptuary  and  agrarian  laws 
were  resorted  to,  and  other  means  of  enforcing  an  artificial  equal- 
ity of  condition.  The  Dorian  states  seem  to  have  approached  as 
nearly  as  possible  to  the  complete  execution  of  this  system  of 
universal  restraint  and  discipline.  According  to  the  so-called 
laws  of  Lycurgus,  the  state  interferes  with  every  concern  of  the 
citizen — it  determines  whom  he  shall  marry,  and  when  he  shall 
repudiate  his  wife — it  dictates  to  him  which  of  his  children  he 
shall  bring  up,  and  which  of  them  he  shall  expose  to  the  beasts 
and  birds  on  Mount  Taygetus — it  limits  the  quantity  of  land  he 
shall  hold,  and  his  power  of  disposing  of  it — it  interdicts  to  him, 
as  we  have  seen,  all  commerce  and  business  whatever — it  binds 
him  soul  and  body — thinks  for  him,  feels  for  him,  acts  for  him, 
or  what  comes  to  the  same  thing,  compels  him  to  think,  feel,  and 
act  only  for  itself.  Swift's  Houyhnhnms  that  had  no  fondness 
for  their  foals,  but  took  care  of  them  only  from  reason,  and  be- 
stowed the  same  attention  on  their  neighbor's  offspring  as  their 
own,  were  of  the  true  Spartan  breed.  This  odious  system,  so 
well  calculated  to  extinguish  all  genius,  nay,  thought — to  turn  a 

*  Iamblich.  ub.  sup.  168.  c.  30. 

<ro  xosvov  xeu  Itfov,  xccl  co  s-yyvrcLrw' 

svog  tfwjuoaToj  xa;  jar^c  4^/t^  o/xotfa^sn/  rfkvrac;.  ***** 

*  *  *  iv  <ro?j  rj&zdi  <ro  'ibiov  nfSLv  sfo^itfacr  *  *  *  ,  etc. 

He  alludes,  no  doubt,  to  Plato  de  Repub.  1.  V.  p.  461,  where  the  same  analogy 
of  the  human  body,  and  the  sympathy  of  all  its  parts  with  each,  is  used, 
f  Isocrat.  Panathenaic,  vs. 


436  CONSTITUTIONAL  HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 

whole  people  into  a  mere  machine,  like  a  well  drilled  standing 
army — to  make  it,  as  has  been  said  of  China,  a  shrivelled  mum- 
my, not  like  it  swathed  in  silk,  but  armed  in  proof,  was  the 
boasted  suragia  of  the  Dorians,  so  much  envied  by  Plato  and 
Xenophon.  It  will  present  the  contrast  between  the  ancient  and 
modern  worlds,  in  this  important  matter  of  the  right  of  society 
to  control  the  pursuits  and  purposes  of  the  individual,  in  a  very 
striking  light,  to  look  into  the  works  of  one  of  the  greatest  cham- 
pions of  liberty  that  ever  existed,  and  to  see  in  what  he  makes  it 
to  consist — we  mean  Milton.  Our  space  will  not  admit  of  our 
doing  more  than  barely  alluding  to  the  three  species  of  freedom 
which  he  held  to  be  essential  to  social  life — the  religious,  the 
domestic,  and  the  civil  ;  and  adding  that,  to  promote  the  first,  he 
wrote  his  Treatise  on  Reformation — to  establish  the  second,  he 
published  his  Treatise  on  Divorce,  his  Tractate  on  Education, 
and  his  Areopagitica  or  liberty  of  unlicensed  printing  ;  while  his 
ideas  as  to  the  third  may  be  found  in  all  his  works,  but  especially 
in  his  famous  defence  of  Regicide.*  Yet,  with  all  his  freethink- 
ing,  Milton  was,  as  every  body  knows,  grave,  austere,  and  strictly 
regular  in  his  life  and  habits.t  His  opinions,  therefore,  are  a 
remarkable  specimen  of  the  deep-rooted  notions  of  personal  inde- 
pendence that  have  taken  possession  of  the  modern  mind  on  the 
subject  of  legislative  interference  with  the  private  concerns  of 
mankind,  t 

It  is  true,  as  we  have  seen,  that  this  despotism  of  the  whole 
over  the  parts,  this  absorption  of  the  individual  in  the  body  poli- 
tic, was  much  more  mitigated  in  the  Ionian  than  in  the  Dorian, 
in  the  democratic  than  in  the  oligarchical  states.  In  that  beau- 
tiful picture  which  Pericles  paints  of  the  democracy  in  its  highest 
estate,  happy  at  home,  triumphant  abroad,  obedient  to  its  own 
law,  controlled  by  its  calm  reason,  he  dwells  particularly  on  the 
social  ease  and  freedom  of  Athens  as  one  of  its  greatest  privileges. 
So  Aristotle  considers  an  impatience  of  the  restraints  imposed 
elsewhere  on  the  individual,  as  one  of  the  characteristics  of  po- 
pular government.  We  do  not  understand  him,  in  these  passages 
as  Mr.  Hermann,  does,  merely  to  mean  that  such  government  al- 
ways tends  to  licentiousness  and  anarchy.  We  think  he  refers  to  a 
general  relaxation  of  the  corporation-spirit,  the  state  control,  of 
which  we  have  been  speaking,  and  we  admit  that  he  doos  not 
seem  altogether  to  approve  it.  If  we  are  right  in  our  interpreta- 
tion of  his  sense,  here  is  another  point  in  which  the  democracy 
of  antiquity  showed  a  tendency  towards  the  principles  that  are 

•See  Life  of  Milton,  prefixed  to  the  Aldine  edition  of  his  poems,  p.  xvi. 

[t  Cf.  1.  Bl.  Com.  126.] 

t  Yet  in  the  incorporated  towns  of  the  Low  Countries,  which  were  all  close  oli- 
garchies, the  esprit,  de  corps  produced  similar  effects,  and  the  bourgeois  was  absorb- 
ed in  the  commune  or  body  politic.     Meyer.  Inst.  Judic.  III.  75.  96. 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OP  ATHENS.  437 

at  the  bottom  of  all  modern  civilization.  But.  however  mitigated 
the  effects  of  the  principle  referred  to  may  have  been  at  Athens, 
it  still  operated  to  a  very  considerable  extent  upon  the  opinions 
of  men,  and,  of  course,  upon  the  administration  of  affairs. 

Now  those  effects  are  all  such  as  would  shock  a  modern  reader 
most.  The  sanctity  of  private  property,  for  example,  may  be 
regarded  as  a  great  cardinal  principle  of  European  society.  The 
difference  between  even  military  autocracy  in  that  continent,  and 
Asiatic  despotism,  consists  precisely  in  this.  The  latter  is  not.  the 
sovereign,  the  ruler  only ;  he  is  the  proprietor  of  his  states,  and 
all  that  reside  within  it.  His  dominions  are  his  domains.  The 
law  of  meum  et  tnum  is  merged  in  the  public  law,  and  the  estates 
as  well  as  the  lives  of  the  subject  are  a  mere  peculium,  held  at 
the  mercy  of  a  master.  In  Europe,  the  jus  privatum,  is  every 
where  sacredly  observed,  and  strictly  enforced.  No  absolute 
monarch  there  ever  dreams  of  infringing  the  rights  of  private 
property,  farther  than  is  permitted  by  the  fundamental  law. 
The  windmill  of  Sans  Souci  is  the  great  monument  of  the  Euro- 
pean jus  gentium — a  monument  prouder  than  any  arch  or  co- 
lumn at  Rome  or  Paris.  The  eminent  domaine  is,  indeed,  every 
where  acknowledged,  but  so  is  the  principle  of  compensation  to 
be  made  for  all  property  needed  for  the  public  service.  This 
principle  is  consecrated  in  the  French  code,  and  extended  so  far 
as  to  require  the  compensation  to  be  previously  paid.  A  Greek, 
it  is  plain,  never  could  feel  the  same  sensibility  on  that  subject. 
His  way  of  thinking,  in  regard  to  it,  was  more  Asiatic  than  Eu- 
ropean. In  his  eyes  the  property  as  well  as  the  life  of  the  indi- 
vidual belonged  absolutely  to  the  state.  He  drew  no  impassable 
line  between  ihejus  publicum  and  jus  privatum — he  was  apt  to 
allow  of  an  indictment  where  an  action  only  should  have  lain. 
The  language  of  Barrere's  famous  proclamation  in  '93  was  just 
such  as  he  had  been  accustomed  to  hear,  as  a  carmen  necessa- 
rium,  from  his  tenderest  years.  There  were,  of  course,  many 
cases  in  which  he  would  have  this  stern  political  justice  tempered 
with  a  little  mercy,  in  which  he  might  even  think  it  so  harsh 
and  cruel  as  to  shrink  from  enforcing  it.  But  he  could  not  pos- 
sibly regard  their  financial  system — which  to  us  looks  merely 
like  legalized  plunder — with  the  disgust  it  inspires  now.  So  of 
all  the  scenes  of  confiscation  and  forfeiture  which  were  continu- 
ally passing  before  his  eyes. 

But  the  operation  of  the  principles  we  are  speaking  of  by  no 
means  stopped  there.  It  pervaded  the  whole  life  of  the  Greek 
city.  We  have  seen  how  the  legislator  interfered  with  and  con- 
trolled the  strongest  instincts  of  nature,  and  all  the  dearest  affec- 
tions of  the  heart.  Shocking  as  such  a  system  appears  to  us, 
every  philosopher  of  antiquity  not  only  admits  its  propriety,  but 
inculcates  its  fundamental  and  indispensable  importance.     Edu- 


438  CONSTITUTIONAL  HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 

cation  is  every  where  regarded  as  matter  of  state  policy  ;  and  to  a 
greater  extent  than  is  dreamed  of  in  our  philosophy.  Plato 
would  hegin  within  the  womb,  and  take  care  that  the  left  hand 
be  made,  by  exercise,  as  useful  as  the  right.*  The  child  was 
begotten  for  the  service  of  the  commonwealth,  and  was  to  be 
trained  up  to  suit  its  exigencies.  "Madam,"  said  Bonaparte,  to  a 
lady  of  rank  who  had  besought  him  to  accept  of  a  substitute  or 
any  equivalent  for  the  service  of  her  only  son,  ordered  to  join 
the  army  in  the  Russian  campaign, — "you,  your  child,  and  your 
fortune,  are  my  property  already" — and  few  things  rendered  him 
more  justly  odious  to  the  people  of  that  country,  than  this  cyni- 
cal avowal  of  a  stern  military,  and  even  barbarous  despotism. 
Every  modern  feels  it  so,  and  perhaps,  in  the  mouth  of  Alexander 
a  Greek  would  have  thought  it  savored  of  the  oriental  pride  he 
affected,  yet  it  was,  in  fact,  the  language  of  all  their  laws  and 
the  practices  of  all  their  governments. 

Nor  was  this  control  over  the  popular  mind  confined  to  tne 
education  of  youth.  It  shaped  public  opinion  in  every  thing  and 
made  all  morality  an  affair  of  positive  institution.!  Mala  pro- 
hibita  were  not  only  as  criminal  as  mala  in  se,  but  the  whole 
evil  in  every  case  was  created  by  the  statute.  Home  Tooke's 
etymology  of  right — rectum — from  regerc,  to  rule,  was  literally 
exact  there.  Utility,  in  the  narrowest  sense,  and  with  its  most 
licentious  tendency,  became  naturally  the  standard  of  justice. 
Whatever  was  advantageous  to  the  state  was,  of  course,  right, 
and  the  sophists,  who  openly  professed  and  sedulously  inculcated 
that  doctrine,  might  render  it  somewhat  more  odious  by  exagge- 
ration, but  taught  nothing  but  what  was  implicitly  received  in 
all  the  conduct  of  governments.  To  say  that  infanticide  was 
the  universal,  familiar,  and  approved  usage  of  antiquity,  is  say- 
ing every  thing.  The  Spartan  theft,  punished  only  if  discovered, 
was  obviously  a  misnomer.t  The  law  gave  the  property  to 
whoever  could  appropriate  it  without  being  detected.  It  was  as 
good  a  title  as  any  other.  It  was  only  pushing  out  to  one  more 
consequence  the  principle  of  which  we  are  speaking,  and  of 
which  the  tendency  was  to  blunt  in  all  things  the  perception  of 
any  distinction  between  meum  and  tuum.  Accordingly,  nothing- 
could  be  more  glaring  and  notorious  than  Spartan  dishonesty,  in 
every  shape  which  fraud  and  injustice  could  take ;  and  the  state 
of  public  morals  at  Athens  was  no  better.  Defalcations  were 
universal  among  the  receivers  of  public  money.  Bockh,  in  the 
valuable  work  so  often  cited,  has  the  following  equally  just  and 

*  De  Leg.  VI.  765.  a  VII.  passim. 

f  The  to  6ixgcjov  not  the  same  in  all  governments.     Arist.  Pol.  V.  9. 
So  he  speaks  of  what  was  good  airXug,  and  what  was  good  ^o^ttjv  tfoXiTS- 
iav.  IV.  7. 
[I  Cf.  Schloss.  1  Th.  2  abth.  236.] 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ATHENS.  439 

pointed  observations :  "From  what  has  been  said,  it  is  evident 
that  there  was  no  want  at  Athens  of  well-conceived  and  strict 
regulations ;  but  what  is  the  use  of  provident  measures  where 
the  spirit  of  the  administration  is  bad  ?  Men  have  at  all  times 
been  unjust  and  covetous,  and  unprincipled,  and  above  all,  the 
Greeks  distinguished  themselves  for  the  uncontrolled  gratification 
of  their  desires,  and  their  contempt  for  the  happiness  of  others. 
If  any  competent  judge  of  moral  actions  will  contemplate  their 
character  without  prejudice,  and  unbiassed  by  their  high  intellec- 
tual endowments,  he  will  find  that  their  private  life  was  unsocial 
and  devoid  of  virtue  ;  that  their  public  conduct  was  guided  by 
the  lowest  passions  and  preferences  ;  and,  what  was  worst  of  all, 
that  there  existed  a  hardness  and  cruelty  in  the  popular  mind, 
and  a  want  of  moral  principle,  to  a  far  greater  degree  than  in 
the  Christian  world.  .  .  .  When  we  consider  the  principles  of 
the  Greeks,  which  are  sufficiently  seen  from  their  historians  and 
philosophers,  it  cannot  be  a  matter  of  surprise  that  fraud  was 
used  by  public  officers  at  Athens  in  so  great  a  matter  as  the  re- 
gulation of  the  days.  .  .  .  Every  where  we  meet  with  instances 
of  robberies  and  embezzlement  of  money  by  public  officers  ;  even 
the  sacred  property  was  not  secure  from  sacrilegious  hands."* 
This  is  literally  exact,  and  yet  the  Athenian  might  affirm  with 
truth,  that  he  was  no  worse  than  his  neighbors.  The  whole 
drift  of  Isocrates.  in  his  Panathenaic  oration,  is  to  show  that  if 
his  degenerate  countrymen  were  bad,  (as  he  acknowledges  them 
to  be,)  the  Spartans  were  in  all  respects  a  great  deal  worse.  His 
success  in  such  an  undertaking  is  only  a  proof  of  the  deep  and 
disgusting  moral  depravity  of  the  ancient  world.  There  is 
scarcely  a  great  man  of  Greece  whose  biography  is  free  from 
some  of  those  dark  stains,  which  no  virtues  would  now  be 
thought  sufficient  to  compensate,  and  no  glory  to  conceal.  With- 
out citing  the  examples  of  such  men  as  Themistocles  and  Lys- 
ander,  notoriously,  and  even  for  their  own  times,  remarkably 
unprincipled,  however  gifted  and  celebrated  men,  Plutarch  has 
scarcely  a  hero  who  would  pass  muster  as  a  gentleman  now. 
Timoleon,  for  instance,  has  been  pronounced  by  Heeren  and 
others,  the  most  perfect  model  of  a  republican  in  the  history  of 
the  world— a  world  that  had  seen  our  Washington!  And  we 
admit  that  we  do  not  think  the  annals  of  popular  government, 
in  all  antiquity,  offer  an  example,  on  the  whole,  more  enviable 
and  winning.  Yet,  if  his  biographer  is  to  be  relied  on,  he  was 
accessory  to,  by  permitting,  as  barbarous  and  wanton  a  murder 
as  the  mean  vengeance  of  faction  ever  perpetrated.t 

*  Pub.  Econ.  of  Athens,  v.  II.  260.    Cf.  Athense.  XII.  passim, 
f  Plutarch  says  it  was  of  all  Timoleon's  works,  the  a-^a^gorarov  !    Gentle 
enough,  surely.     [Not  to  mention  his  killing  his  brother.  Diod.  Sic.  xvi.  65.] 


440  CONSTITUTIONAL  HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 

V.  There  remains  to  be  suggested  another  consideration  of 
importance,  that  ought  not  to  escape  the  student  of  Greek  history. 

We  have  just  seen  what  their  idea  of  a  state,  was  in  relation 
to  the  individuals  that  composed  it ;  the  same  notion  of  its  com- 
posing a  close,  compact,  regularly  organized  whole,  applied 
equally  to  the  space  it  was  to  include  within  its  limits.  Both 
in  Greek  and  Latin,  the  words  which  signify  a  state  and  city, 
are  synonymous.  Ancient  society,  as  has  been  remarked  by 
several  writers  of  ability*,  was  born  in  cities,  modern,  in  the 
country  and  the  castles,  and  this  difference  of  origin  would  natu- 
rally have  some  effect  on  their  respective  characters.  It  is  very 
remarkable,  for  example,  that,  when  communities  analogous  to 
those  of  antiquity  sprang  up  in  the  incorporated  towns  of  the 
middle  ages,  many  peculiarities  of  the  ancient  oligarchies  or  de- 
mocracies were  observable  in  their  conduct  and  policy.t  These 
peculiarities,  however,  owing  perhaps,  in  some  degree,  to  the 
fact  that  the  cities  were,  after  all,  only  subordinate  parts  of  still 
greater  communities,  and  were,  more  or  less,  subjected  to  their 
control,  never  developed  themselves  so  fully  in  the  modern  mu- 
nicipal governments  as  in  the  sovereign  commonwealths  of 
Greece.  But,  besides  this,  there  was,  as  we  have  shown,  some- 
thing in  the  original  bent  of  the  Greek  mind,  that  led  to  the 
study  of  unity  of  design  and  symmetry  of  parts  in  government 
as  in  art  and  poetry.  Be  that  as  it  may,  certain  it  is  that  the 
greatest  philosophers  among  them  would  have  regarded  as  some- 
thing monstrous  a  republic,  spreading  over  half  a  continent  and 
embracing  twenty-six  states,  each  of  which  would  have  itself 
been  an  empire,  and  not  a  commonwealth,  in  their  sense  of  the 
word.  Aristotle  expressly  declares,  that  the  population  of  a  city 
must  not  be  allowed  to  increase  beyond  a  competent  number, 
because  it  would  cease  to  be  a  state,  (toXk)  and  would  become  a 
nation,  (s&vog,)  unsusceptible  of  any  thing  deserving  the  name  of 
a  polity.}: 

As  the  excessive  length  of  these  remarks  admonishes  us  to 
hasten  to  a  close,  we  shall  not  extend  them  farther  than  barely 
to  allude  to  the  care  which  the  Greek  lawgiver  was  forced  to 
bestow  upon  keeping  the  number  of  his  citizens  always  just  at 
the  proper  point  of  fulness,  without  redundancy,  and  at  the  im- 
portant changes  that  sometimes  occurred  from  accidental  causes. 
Thus,  the  great  plague,  in  the  beginning  of  the  Peloponnesian 
war,  is  supposed,  by  Wachsmuth,  to  have  wrought  a  sort  of  re- 
volution at  Athens  ;§  and  this  it  did,  not  only  by  the  extreme 

*  Guizot,  Si&mondi,  &c. 

t  Meyer  Institutions  Judieaires.  ubi  supra. 

i  Pol.  VII.  4. 

§  V.  II.  189.    Aristotle  had  pointed  out  the  way.     Pol,  v.  3,  4. 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ATHENS.  441 

dissoluteness  that  always  accompanies  such  events,  but  by  dis- 
turbing the  relations  between  the  different  classes  of  society,  and 
depriving  the  people  of  some  of  their  wisest  guides  and  counsel- 
sors.  Not  only  so,  but,  on  such  occasions,  in  order  to  fill  up  the 
ranks  of  society,  means  would  be  resorted  to  which  could  not 
but  produce  the  most  pernicious  effects  upon  its  general  charac- 
ter such  as  polygamy,  the  legitimating  of  bastards,  the  emanci- 
pation of  slaves,  and  the  naturalizing  of  foreigners.  A  great  bat- 
tle* would  be  accompanied  with  the  same  effects,  and  even  a 
comparatively  trifling  loss  would  be  most  severely  felt,  if  it  hap- 
pened to  fall  upon  the  flower  of  the  citizen  soldiers ;  witness  the 
extraordinary  impression  made  at  Sparta  by#the  capture  of  a  bare 
handful  of  their  troops  at  Pylus.  The  result  was  that,  since  a 
city  ought  neither  to  be  too  great  nor  too  small,  and  the  popula- 
tion should  not  be  allowed  to  dwindle  away,  on  the  one  hand,  or 
press  too  heavily  upon  the  means  of  subsistence  on  the  other,  the 
division  of  the  land  belonging  to  it — its  ager — became,  as  Nie- 
buhr  remarks,  the  great  first  principle  of  ancient  political  philo- 
sophy and  legislation.! 

We  will  add  one  more  remark  in  this  connection.  Montes- 
quieu's ideas  were  formed,  in  this  respect,  on  the  doctrines  and 
examples  of  antiquity.  He  thinks  republican  government  adap- 
ted only  to  small  spaces  and  limited  numbers — just  the  circum- 
stances under  which  the  frenzy  of  the  moment  is  most  fatal  to 
law  and  liberty, — the  hatred  and  hostility  of  individuals,  the 
feuds  of  families,  and  the  mutual  jealousy  of  classes,  are  most 
apt  to  grow  into  deep-rooted  and  inveterate  factions.  If  there 
were  no  other  obstacle  to  the  establishment  of  popular  govern- 
ment in  France,  the  overruling  influence  of  Paris  would,  alone, 
be  an  insuperable  one.  One  of  the  great  conservative  principles 
of  our  own  republican  institutions  is  the  very  extensive  space 
over  which  they  spread  their  benignant  influences.  In  this  point 
of  view,  as  in  so  many  others,  the  blessings  of  the  federal  union 
are  above  all  price  and  all  praise.  But  that  is  a  subject  for  a 
more  ample  and  solemn  examination. 

We  will  only  say,  in  conclusion,  that,  if  every  American,  who 
looks  upon  the  picture  we  have  presented  of  the  so-called  democ- 
racy of  Athens,  feels,  as  he  must,  a  still  deeper  and  more  fervent 
gratitude  to  heaven,  for  having  cast  his  lot  in  this  most  blessed 
of  all  lands,  where  perfect  liberty  has  hitherto  been  found  united 
with  the  dominion  of  the  law  and  the  reign  of  order,  let  him  be 
penetrated  with  the  conviction,  that  he  owes  it  to  the  institutions 
of  our  fathers  as  they  were  originally  conceived.  Let  him  be 
assured  that  their  glorious  work  needs  no  reforming,  and  that 
the  base  flatterers  of  the  sovereign  people,  who  preach  to  them  of 

[*So  the  great  insurrection  of  Helots  after  the  great  earthquake  in  Sparta.] 
t  Compare  Arist.  Fol.  V.  7.  and  VII.  4.  11. 
vol.  I. — 56 


442  CONSTITUTIONAL  HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 

their  infallibility,  are  here,  what  they  ever  have  been,  the  ambi- 
tious, the  vain,  the  unprincipled,  the  aspiring,  who  would  bow 
down  and  worship  any  other  power  that  could  promote  their  own. 
History  is  written  in  vain,  if  mankind  have  not  been  taught  that 
demagogue  and  tyrant  are  synonymous ;  and  that  he  who  pro- 
fesses to  be  the  friend  of  the  people,  while  lie  persuades  them  to 
sacrifice  their  reason  to  their  passions — their  duty  to  their  capri- 
ces— their  laws,  their  constitution,  their  glory,  their  integrity,  to 
the  mere  lust  of  tyrannical  misrule— is  a  liar,  and  the  truth  is 
not  in  him. 


DEMOSTHENES. 


1.  Demosthenes  als  Staatsbiirger,  Redner  und  SchrifFsteller.  Von  Albert 
Gerard  Becker,  Pastor  zu  St.  Aegidii  in  Cluedlinburg.  Erste  Abtheilung 
Literatur  des  Demosthenes.     Quedlinburg  und  Leipzig.     1830. 

Zweite  Abtheilung.     Nachtrage  und  Fortsetzung  der  Literatur  vom  J. 
1830  bis  zum  Schlusse  des  J.  1833.     Quedlinburg  und  Leipzig.     1834. 

•2.  Gtuaestionum  Demosthenicarum  Particula  tenia.  De  Litibus  quas  Demosthe- 
nes oravit  ipse.  Scripsit  Antonius  Westermann,  in  Academia  Lips.  Prof. 
Ord.  Accedit  epimetrum  de  repetitis  locis  in  orationibus  Demosthenis. 
Lipsiac,  MDCCCXXXIV. 

3.  A  Dissertation  on  the  Eloquence  of  the  Ancients,  with  an  Appendix,  by  Lord 
Brougham,  in  Lord  Brougham's  Speeches,  vol.  4.    Edinburgh.    1838. 

The  subject  of  popular  eloquence,  always  an  attractive  one 
in  free  countries,  has  been  invested  for  us  with  a  more  than 
ordinary  interest  by  the  events  of  the  last  year.  A  new  era 
seems  to  have  occurred  in  the  development  of  our  democratic 
institutions.  There  have  been  congresses  of  the  sovereigns  in 
proper  person.  We  have  seen  multitudes,  probably  greater  than 
any  addressed  by  the  ancient  masters,  brought  together,  by  means 
of  the  steam  engine,  from  the  most  distant  parts  of  our  immense 
territory,  to  consult  with  one  another  upon  the  state  of  the  nation, 
and  to  listen  to  the  counsels  of  men  distinguished  among  us  for 
their  influence  or  ability.  We  have  seen  the  best  speakers  of  the 
country,  called  for  from  all  parts  of  it,  compelled  to  leave  their 
homes  however  remote — some  of  them  drawn  forth  even  out  of 
the  shades  of  private  life — to  advise,  to  instruct,  and  to  animate 
their  fellow-citizens,  exhausting  all  their  resources  of  invention 
to  supply  topics,  of  strength  to  endure  fatigue,  of  oratory  to 
command  attention,  and  even  of  voice  to  utter  and  articulate 
sound,  in  order  to  meet  the  almost  incessant  demands  made  upon 
them  by  a  people  insatiable  after  political  discussion.  It  was 
not  one  part  of  the  country  that  was  thus  awakened  and  agitated, 
the  commotion  was  universal;  yet  nothing  was  more  remarkable 
in  these  stirring  scenes  than  the  order,  decorum  and  seriousness 
which  in  general  distinguished  them.  These  eager  throngs 
listened  like  men  accustomed  to  inquire  for  themselves,  and  to 
weigh  the  grounds  of  their  opinions.  There  was  to  us,  we 
confess,  something  imposing  and  even  majestic  in  such  mighty 
exhibitions  of  the  Democracy.     But  quiet  and  patient  as  these 


444  DEMOSTHENES, 

vast  popular  audiences  certainly  were,  to  a  degree  much  beyond 
anything  that  could  have  been  imagined  beforehand,  their  atten- 
tion was  far  from  being  uniform  andundiscerning.  They  never 
once  failed  to  listen  to  the  best  speech  with  the  deepest  silence, 
and  to  award  the  highest  honors  to  the  best  speaker.  We  mean 
the  best  in  the  proper,  critical  sense  of  the  word  ;  for  our  previous 
opinions,  founded  upon  the  experience  of  other  times,  have  been 
fully  confirmed  by  our  own,  that  it  is  impossible  to  speak  too 
well  to  a  vast  and  promiscuous  assembly ;  and  that  it  is  by 
qualities  which  would  insure  success  at  any  time  under  a  popular 
government  similarly  circumstanced,  that  Demosthenes,  the 
most  exquisite  of  writers,  was  the  delight,  the  guide  and  the 
glory  of  the  Democracy  of  Athens. 

Considering,  as  we  do,  the  masterpieces  of  this  great  orator  as 
the  true  and  only  models  of  popular  eloquence — as  its  beau 
ideal — not  Greek,  not  Attic,  not  ancient,  not  local  or  transitory 
or  peculiar  as  Lord  Brougham  vainly  imagines  them  to  be,  but 
made  like  the  Apollo  or  the  Parthenon  for  all  times  and  all  na- 
tions, and  worthy  of  study  and  imitation  wherever  genius  shall 
be  called  to  move  masses  of  men  by  the  power  of  the  living 
word,  we  know  not  how  we  can  do  anything  more  profitable  or 
more  acceptible  to  our  readers,  than  to  fix  their  attention,  for  a 
few  moments,  upon  the  excellencies  which  distinguish  him  be- 
yond every  other  orator  that  has  ever  appeared  in  any  period  of 
the  world's  history.  Nor  let  it  be  feared  that  we  shall  be  found 
dealing  in  the  stale  trivialities  of  a  subject  long  since  worn  out. 
It  is  true  that  the  name  of  this  Homer  of  orators,*  and  certain 
epithets  which  school-boys  are  taught  to  associate  with  it,  are  as 
familiar  as  household  words.  But  it  is  also  true,  to  an  extent 
not  to  be  conceived  by  any  but  scholars,  that  anything  but  a  just 
idea — nay,  that  a  very  absurd  idea — of  the  Demosthenian  style, 
is  suggested  by  those  same  familiar  phrases.  We  want  no  better 
proof  of  this  than  is  furnished  by  the  dissertation  of  Lord  Brough- 
am, the  very  latest  thing  that  has  appeared  upon  the  subject, 
placed,  with  two  other  publications  much  more  entitled  to  the 
attention  of  scholars,  at  the  head  of  this  paper.  But  of  that  by 
and  by.  The  truth  is  that,  in  common  with  all  the  other  depart- 
ments of  philology,  the  schools  of  Germany  have,  within  the 
last  twenty-five  years,  addressed  to  this,  with  signal  success, 
their  vast  research  and  their  matchless  criticism.  The  work  of 
Mr.  Becker,  mentioned  in  our  rubric,  contains  sufficient  evidence 
of  this.  It  is  entitled,  as  our  readers  will  have  seen,  the  "litera- 
ture" of  Demosthenes,  that  is,  it  is  a  succinct  account,  in  two 
parts,  containing  together  but  three  hundred  pa^es,  of  all  that 
has  been  published  in  regard  to  the  orator,  to  his  life  and  charac- 
ter, editions  and  translations  of  his  works,  or  essays  and  com- 

*  Lucian  Encom.  4,  5. 


THE  MAN,  THE  STATESMAN,  AND  THE  ORATOR.  445 

mentaries  upon  them ;  everything,  in  short,  that  can  make  us 
acquainted  with  the  man  or  the  speaker.  It  is  quite  remarkable 
how  much  more  has  been  done  in  this  way.  within  the  short 
period  just  mentioned,  than  during  the  whole  seventeenth  and 
eighteenth  centuries  put  together.*  This  same  author  published 
in  1815-16  a  work  upon  Demosthenes,  which  was  one  of  the 
first  contributions  to  a  more  critical  knowledge  of  its  interesting 
subject.  That  work  (Demosthenes  als  Staatsmann  und  Redner) 
we  have  never  been  so  fortunate  as  to  meet  with,  having  ordered 
it  repeatedly  in  vain  from  Germany.  Mr.  Becker  complains 
that,  living  where  he  does,  (at  Q,uedlinburg,  at  the  foot  of  the 
Hartz,)  he  has  not  the  advantage  of  access  to  any  of  the  great 
public  libraries  of  Europe,  and  that  he  feels  very  sensibly  the 
want  of  such  an  instrument.!  What  would  he  say  if  he  shared 
our  privations  in  that  respect?  Yet  much  as  we  regret  the  not 
having  had  an  opportunity  of  reading  a  work  to  which  he  often 
refers,  and  of  which  we  have  so  often  seen  honorable  mention 
made,  we  are  the  more  reconciled  to  be  without  it  by  the  reflec- 
tion that  this  branch  of  knowledge  has  made  great  progress  since 
it  was  published,  and  by  the  confession  of  the  author  that  he 
feels  the  necessity  of  recasting  it  with  a  view  to  that  progress. 
Indeed,  the  work  before  us  is  a  preparation  for  the  projected 
improvement  in  the  first,  and  contains  a  collection  of  the  materials 
out  of  which  it  is  to  be  reformed  and  completed. 

M.  Becker  is  a  devotee  to  his  subject,  if  there  ever  was  one. 
He  assures  us  that  since  the  year  '91,  when  a  dissertation  of  his 
to  prove  that  the  Oration  on  the  Letter  of  Philip  was  spurious, 
was  shown  to  F.  A.  Wolf,  and  honored  with  the  approbation  of 
that  admirable  critic,  he  has  never  lost  sight  of  the  orators.  At 
the  end  of  half  a  century  his  zeal  seems  nowise  abated.  He 
collects  with  a  tender  care  and  repeats  with  fond  complacency 
whatever  has  been  uttered  in  any  time  or  tongue,  of  praise  to 
his  author,  or  in  extenuation  of  his  faults  which,  until  recently, 
none  were  found  bold  enough  to  deny.  Some  of  these  Testimonia 
auctorum  are  really  ver.y  striking  and  eloquent,  and,  did  our 
space  permit  us,  we  would  willingly  translate  one  or  two  of 
them  for  the  benefit  of  our  readers.}:  They  show  that  M.  Becker's 
enthusiasm  for  Demosthenes,  not  only  as  an  orator,  but  as  a  man 
and  a  patriot,  is  the  common  feeling  of  most  of  his  contempora- 
ries in  Germany.  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus  himself  who 
sacrifices  not  only  Isocrates,  but  even  Plato  and  his  favorite 
Lysias  to  the  prince  of  the  art,  does  not  indulge  in  a  more  lively 
and  rapturous  strain  of  encomium,  than  is  almost  universal  among 

*  F.  A.  Wolf  first  awakened  the  true  taste  for  the  Attic  orators,  and  with  them 
for  the  whole  subject  of  Greek  Antiquities,  says  Becker,  p.  109. 

t  See  Vorrede  to  Th.  2,  s.  vi. 

X  Especially  a  portrait  of  Demosthenes  by  Zell,  p.  276,  and  some  remarks  of 
Raumer.  p.  141. 


446  nEMOSTHEN'ES, 

(hese  quiet  students  of  climes  so  much  nearer  the  pole  than 
Greece.     But  it  is  not  in  these  times  only  that  Germany  has 
confirmed  the  vote  by  which  the  Demus  of  Athens  crowned  the 
immortal  champion  of  Ctesiphon.     Among  the  bibliographical 
notices,  with  which  this  volume  of  M.  Becker  is  filled,  are  those 
of  two  scholars,  scarcely  known  but  to  men  devoted  to  the  same 
studies,  Jerome  Wolf  and  Jo.  Jac.  Reiske ;  who  are  instances  of 
that  enthusiasm  remarkable  enough  to  be  cited  here.     To  the 
first  of  these  editors  the  modern  world  is  under  greater  obliga- 
tions for  the  advantage  of  reading  Demosthenes  in  a  correct 
form,  than  to  any  other  individual   whatever.     He  lived  in  the 
sixteenth  century,  a  century  during  which  no  less  than  seven 
different  editions  of  the  whole  works  of  the  orator  were  published, 
beginning  with  the  Aldine   in   1515,  and   ending  with  Wolfs 
last ;  not  to  mention  an  incredible  number  of  the  Philippics  and 
of  single  orations,  and  a  great  many  translations  into  various 
tongues.     Becker  observes  that,  in  this  respect,  the  "literature" 
of  no  other  writer  is  to  be  compared  to  Demosthenes.  Thousands 
upon  thousands  of  copies  were  rapidly  spread  through  the  schools 
and   universities   of  Germany,    Switzerland,   the   Netherlands, 
France  and  Italy,  Poland,  Spain,  and  even  England.     Wolfs 
third,  it  seems,  and  celebrated  edition  of  the  speeches  of  Demos- 
thenes, and  iEschines,  was  published  in  1572.     This  remarkable 
man — as  remarkable  in  his  humble  way  for  patience  and  heroic 
martyrdom  as  his  subject  himself — devoted  his  whole  life  to  the 
thankless  task  of  an  editor,  amidst  every  sort  of  difficulty  and 
discouragement.     It  is   really  touching  to  read  the  accounts  he 
gives  in  his  various  prefaces  and  epistles,  of  what  he  was  doomed 
to  surfer,  in  his  obscure  labors  for  the  sake  of  philology.*     Yet 
he  consoles  himself,  like  the  famous  Strasburg  goose  in    the 
Almanach  des  Gourmands,  with  the  idea,  that,  albeit  his  life  was 
not  the  most  enviable,  and  he  had  been  treated  with  but  little 
favor  by  some  of  his  countrymen,  yet  foreign  nations  had  heard 
of  Wolfius,  and  posterity  and  studious  youth  and  the  learned  of 
all  ages  would  honor  the  "consuls  and  senate  of  Augsburg"  for 
protecting  him.t    In  one  of  these  prefaces,  written  in  Greek,  the 
devoted  scholar  speaks  with  a  complacency  akin  to  that  of  Gibbon 
on  the  completion  of  the  "Decline  and  Fall,"  of  the  services 
which  he  had  rendered  to  the  "great  and  heroical  orator,"  and 
hopes  that  the  name  of  Wolf  will  be  forever  identified  with  that 
of  Demosthenes.     And,  in  very  deed,  if  his  disembodied  spirit 
can  content  itself  with  the  admiration  of  a  fit  audience,  though 
few,  it  may  well  be  reconciled  to  its  long  agony  of  injured 
merit  and  struggling  ambition   while    in  the  flesh,  by  the  ac- 
knowledgments now  made  to  him  by  the  learned  in  Germany. 

*  Pref  to  Fngger,%ub.  init. 

t  Ad  nobiles  et  magnificos  viros,  etc.  H.  W.  in  D.  et  M.  Graeco-latinos  przefat. 


THE  MAN,  THE  STATESMAN,  AND  THE  ORATOR.  447 

We  have  seldom  read  a  more  beautiful  tribute  than  that  offered 
by  Vomel  (1828)  to  his  memory,  and  republished  in  this  volume 
by  M.  Becker,  (p.  94).  We  would  be  glad  if  it  were  possible  to 
lay  it  before  our  readers,  together  with- an  extract  to  be  found  in 
a  note  (p.  95)  from  the  rhapsodies  of  the  poet  Kosegarten,  pre- 
fixed to  his  German  translation  of  Wolf's  autobiography. 

After  the  lapse  of  two  centuries,  (1770,)  the  labors  and  suf- 
ferings of  Jerome  Wolf,  for  the  sake  of  Demosthenes,  were  re- 
peated in  the  person  of  another  German  (whose  estimate  of 
the  moral  character  of  his  author  was  not  a  flattering  one,  how- 
ever,) Jo.  Jac.  Reiske.  It  would  almost  seem  that  the  contagious 
bad-luck  of  the  ill-starred  orator,  with  which  iEschines  taunted 
him,  and  which  Juvenal  has  handed  down  in  his  famous  satire 
on  all  human  aspirations — 

Dis  ille  adversis  genitus  fatoqne  sinistro, 

was  destined  to  pursue  his  friends  to  the  end  of  time.  In  read- 
ing Reiske's  own  account  of  his  life  and  labors,  from  which  M. 
Becker  furnishes  an  extract,  we  find  that  he  undertook  the  print- 
ing of  his  edition  of  Demosthenes  at  his  own  expense.  "The 
work,"  says  he,  "is  begun  in  the  name  of  God.  Whether  I  shall 
iive  to  see  it  finished,  depends  on  Him.  If  I  had  to  rely  on  men, 
I  should  most  certainly  fall  a  sacrifice  to  my  own  good  will  and 
their  ingratitude  and  cruelty."  It  deserves  to  be  mentioned,  as 
an  instance  of  woman's  self-devoted  generosity,  that  his  wife, 
who  assisted  him  in  his  literary  labors,  pawned  her  jewels  in 
order  to  have  the  printing  begun.  Becker  assures  us  that  this 
auto-biography  exhibits  the  character  of  that  worthy  scholar  in 
a  most  estimable  light ;  and  adds  that  his  correspondence  with 
Lessing*  (which  we  regret  we  have  not  the  time  even  to  look 
into,)  completes  the  picture  of  "a  great  man."  We  are  glad  to 
find  that  Schafer  has  defended  Reiske  against  the  unmeasured 
reproaches  which  it  was  once  so  fashionable  to  heap  upon  him,t 
and,  without  denying  his  defects,  has  vindicated  his  incontestable 
claims  upon  the  gratitude  of  scholars. 

But  whatever  was  in  other  respects  the  ill  luck  of  Demos- 
thenes, it  did  not  reach  the  MSS.  charged  with  the  preservation 
of  his  master-pieces  for  posterity.  His  speeches  have  been  as 
fortunate  in  this  respect,  as  they  were  in  the  delivery.  Not  only 
are  all  his  most  celebrated  orations,  (with  one  or  two  exceptions 
probable  of  extemporaneous,  or  at  least  unwritten  harangues,:}:) 
come  down  to  us,  but,  if  the  acumen  of  modern  criticism  may 
be  relied  on,  his  name  has  saved  from  oblivion  many  more  than 

*  Lessing's  Werke,  XXVI.  S.  275. 

f  See,  for  instance,  Payne  Knight's  contemptuous  language  in  note  to  II.  H- 
137-8,  of  his  own  Homer,  (1820). 
t  The  speech  at  Thebes,  for  instance  ;  why  have  we  not  that  2 


448  DEMOSTHENES, 

his  own.  Of  sixty  speeches,  published  in  the'  usual  collections, 
only  forty-two  are  admitted  in  the  canon  of  German  scholars. 
Becker  expresses  with  na'wde,  a  fond  wish  that  no  more  may  be 
thought  to  deserve  a  place  in  the  Index  Expurgatorius,  and 
ventures  even  to  hope  that  some  of  those  now  suspected  may  be 
re-integrated  in  their  former  rights.  We  will  just  permit  our- 
selves to  say,  by  the  way,  that  we  heartily  rejoice  to  see  the  mark 
of  the  beast  set  upon  one  at  least  of  those  not  doubted  by  the 
ancients,  we  mean  the  atrocious  attack  upon  Timotheus,  which, 
disgusting  as  every  thing  in  their  literature  shows  the  morals 
and  manners  of  the  Greeks  to  have  been,  we  still  found  especially 
revolting  as  a  low  libel  uttered  by  the  greatest  orator  against  the 
greatest  captain  of  Athens.  This  singular  preservation  of  the 
works  of  Demosthenes  shows  that  there  is  more  of  design  and 
discrimination  than  is  commonly  imagined,  even  in  the  ruins 
which  time  and  barbarism  deal  about  them.  If  we  are  to  believe 
Payne  Knight,  Homer  is  in  the  same  way  overloaded  with  the 
interpolations  of  rhapsodists  ;  and,  with  comparatively  few  ex- 
ceptions, the  works  of  genius,  celebrated  by  the  ancients  them- 
selves, have  been  saved  for  us  by  amateurs  whom  they  found 
even  amid  the  darkness  of  Gothic,  Saracenic  and  Mongolian  in- 
vasion. But  in  the  case  before  us,  M.  Becker  suggests  an  idea 
not  implausible,  to  say  the  least.  He  thinks  Demosthenes  owed 
something  to  the  favor  which  he  found  with  the  fathers  of  the 
Greek  Church.  The  Basils,  the  Gregories  and  the  Chrysostoms, 
whatever  might  be  the  austerity  of  their  aversion  to  the  mytho- 
logy of  ancient  Greece,  still  labored  to  emulate  her  eloquence, 
and  nothing  seems  more  natural  than  that  the  pupils  of  Libanius, 
that  men,  educated  in  the  schools  of  Athens  and  of  Antioch, 
should  share  the  admiration  of  their  masters  for  the  most  per- 
fect model  of  speech  and  reasoning. 

The  sixty-one,  or  more  properly  speaking,  sixty  speeches  now 
extant  and  vulgarly  ascribed  to  Demosthenes,  are  divided  into 
three  leading  classes.  1st.  Those  delivered  in  the  popular  as- 
sembly, and  falling  under  the  head  of  deliberative  eloquence. 
2d.  Those  addressed  to  courts  of  justice,  or  judicial  pleadings. 
3d.  Panegyrical  orations.  Of  the  first  class  there  are  seventeen 
in  all,  of  which  the  principal  are  the  Philippics,  the  Olynthiacs, 
that  de  Chersoneso,  etc.  Four  of  them,  however,  have  been  re- 
jected as  spurious.  The  speech  de  Haloneso,  and  the  two  de 
Republica  ordinanda,  and  de  Fcedere  Alexandrino,  were  ex- 
cluded from  the  canon  by  the  ancient  critics ;  the  first  has  been 
shown  to  be  the  work  of  Hegesippus,  a  contemporary  of  Demos- 
thenes. The  4th  Philippic,  though  admitted  by  the  Greek 
critics,  is  considered  supposititious  by  most  recent  German  writers 
beginning  with  Valcnaer  and  F.  A.  Wolf,  whose  opinions  have 
been  adopted  and  confirmed  by  Bockh,  Becker,  Bekker,  Wester- 


THE  MAN,  THE  STATESMAN,  AND  THE  ORATOR.     449 


The  speech  ad  Epistolam  Philippi  is  treated  by 
them  in  the  same  way.  We  recommend  this  remark  to  the  at- 
tention of  oar  readers,  for,  when  we  come,  as  we  presently  shall, 
to  examine  Lord  Brougham's  Dissertation,  we  shall  find  him 
taking  his  examples  of  the  peculiarities  of  Demosthenes  almost 
invariably  from  these  spurious  or  suspected  works,  and  some- 
times treating  as  perfections  the  very  blemishes  by  which  their 
authenticity  is  disproved. 

The  judicial  speeches,  or  arguments,  as  many  of  them  ought 
rather  to  be  called,  are  divided,  again,  into  two  very  distinct 
classes.  The  first  comprehends  those  of  a  public  character,  and, 
as  Demosthenes  was  of  a  stern  and  morose  temper — the  reverse 
of  Cicero,  who  was  so  much  given  to  the.  melting  mood  that  the 
peroration  was  always  assigned  to  him  by  his  associate  counsel — 
we  shall  not  be  surprised  to  find  them  almost  without  exception, 
accusations  (xar^yo^ai).  Under  this  head  Jerome  Wolf  classes 
the  famous  harangues  de  corona,  and  on  the  Embassy,  as  well 
as  those  less  known,  though  not  less  deserving  to  be  known, 
against  Leptines,  against  Androtio,  against  Timocrates,  against 
Aristocrates,  and  against  Midias.  The  speeches  against  Aristo- 
geiton  which  belong  to  this  category,  although  quoted  with  ho- 
nor by  Pliny  the  younger,*  are  most  certainly  not  the  work  of 
Demosthenes.  Taylor,  however,  goes  too  far  in  treating  the 
first  as  a  miserable  declamation  (declamatiuncula).  There  are 
passages  in  it  which  are  very  good  imitations  of  Demosthenes, 
though  surrounded  with  others  full  of  exaggeration  and  bombast 
and  which  he  could  not  have  spoken  without  ceasing  to  be  him- 
self.t  The  second  division  of  judicial  speeches,  are  those  writ- 
ten (with  some  exception)  to  be  delivered  by  others  as  their  own 
in  private  causes  (bixai).  It  is  not  necessary  to  say  more  of  them 
in  this  connection,  than  that  they  are  as  many  as  thirty  in  num- 
ber, of  which,  four  have  been  rejected  as  spurious,  and  some 
others  are  questioned. 

The  panegyrical  orations  are  only  two — the  funeral  oration 
and  the  \oyog  egmixos,  both  of  them  unquestionably  supposititious, 
as  Dionysius  pronounces  them. 

Upon  this  formidable  array,  which  will  show  the  general 
reader  at  a  glance,  how  voluminious  are  the  remains  of  Demos- 
thenes, the  question  will  at  once  present  itself  to  him,  why  it  is 
he  has  scarcely  ever  heard  of  any  but  the  Philippics  and  the 
speeches  for  the  Crown  and  on  the  Embassy,  and  even  of  the 
last,  but  rarely?     It  seems  very  evident  to  us,  for  example,  that 

*  Epist.  IX.  26.  We  challenge  the  whole  array  of  Roman  critics  of  that  age 
in  regard  to  Greek  eloquence.  What  could  be  "expected  of  the  author  of  the 
"Panegyric"  and  a  man  accustomed  to  address  another  as  (famine,  sitting  in 
judgment  on  the  democratic  art  par  excellence  ? 

t  For  instance,  §  14  is  very  good,  and  §  16  is  very  bad,  as  also  §  17.  Wester- 
m  ann  says  Demosthenes  might  sleep  sometimes  but  not  snore  outright. 

vol.  i. — 57 


450  DEMOSTHENES, 

Lord  Brougham,  though  he  does  occasionally  allude  to  the 
speeches  in  public  or  state  trials,  such  as  those  against  Aristo- 
crates  and  against  Leptines,  has  confined  his  attention,  for  any 
purpose  of  critical  examination,  exclusively  to  the  famous  har- 
angues just  mentioned.  Now,  we  take  it  upon  us  in  limine  to 
pronounce  that  no  one  can  pretend  to  know  what  manner  of 
speaker  Demosthenes  is,  who  has  not — we  will  not  say  attentively 
read,  but — thoroughly  studied  the  judicial  oraiions,  especially 
those  in  public  causes.  These  are,  as  we  have  seen,  against 
Leptines,  Androtio,  Aristocrates,  Timocrates,  and  Midias.  The 
speeches  here  enumerated,  together  with  the  most  famous  of 
them  all,  that  de  CoronA,  and  its  fellow,  the  one  on  the  Embassy, 
were  regarded  by  ancient  critics  as  his  master-pieces.  Theo  of 
Alexandria  says  so  in  words  which,  with  a  view  to  some  of  our 
subsequent  remarks,  it  is  important  to  notice.  "The  best  of  his 
public  speeches  are  those  containing  an  examination  of  some  law 
or  decree  of  the  assembly  or  the  senate."*  The  long  and  elabo- 
rate speech  against  Midias — a  tremendous  reqvisitoire — in  which 
he  prosecutes  a  man  of  condition,  who  was  to  him  what  Clodius 
was  to  Cicero,  for  one  of  the  greatest  outrages,  or  rather,  for  a 
series  of  the  greatest  outrages  that  ever  disgraced  even  a  Greek 
city — was  celebrated  among  the  ancients.  It  is  said,  whether 
justly  or  not,  to  have  been  made  the  subject  of  a  special  commen- 
tary by  more  than  one  of  them,  especially  by  Longinus.  Yet, 
though  mentioned  as  a  model  of  its  kind  by  Photius,  others  have 
imagined  it  imperfect,  because  it  was  never  delivered.  The 
oration  against  Leptines  is  still  more  remarkable.  It  shows  none 
of  the  6sivor*j£  of  its  author.  It  is  written,  as  Cicero  observes,! 
altogether  in  the  style  for  which  Lysias  was  so  much  distin- 
guished— simple,  natural,  flowing,  equable,  and  above  all,  exqui- 
sitely elegant,  F.  A.  Wolf  says  of  it  that,  by  reason  of  its  high 
finish,  none  but  a  thorough-paced  critic  is  competent  fully  to  ap- 
preciate its  graces.  Mere  amateurs,  as  we  are,  we  are  thus  to 
take  the  pleasure,  great  as  it  is,  which  we  have  derived  from  it, 
as  only  an  antepast  and  earnest  of  that  which  will  reward  more 
profound  studies.  Of  the  class  to  which  it  belongs,  Wolf  thinks 
none  but  the  speech  against  Androtio  will  bear  a  comparison 
with  it.  It  is  not,  perhaps,  less  on  account  of  this  wonderful 
perfection  of  style,  than  for  its  being  replete  with  the  most  im- 
portant and  instructive  matter,  that  the  great  scholar  just  men- 
tioned chose  it  for  the  subject  of  a  particular  commentary,  and 
by  a  learned  edition  of  it  in  1789,  (says  Becker)  rendered  as  great 
a  service  to  philology  as  by  his  famous  prolegomena  to  Homer. 
But  there  is  another  remarkable  feature  in  this  speech  which 
commends  it  more  highly  than  any  other  work  of  Demosthenes, 

*  Theo  Sophist,  p.  5,  Elzev.  162& 
t  Orat.  31. 


THE  MAN,  THE  STATESMAN,  AND  THE  0RA10R.  451 

to  the  acceptance  of  a  modern  reader — its  moderate,  decorous 
and  well-bred  tone.  It  was  made  a  theme  of  constant  reproach 
to  him,  by  his  contemporaries,  that  his  maternal  grandmother 
was  a  Scythian* — as  foul  a  stain  in  an  Attic  pedigree,  as  M.  de 
Beaumont  represents  the  smallest  mixture  of  African  blood  to  be 
in  America.  Diogenes  the  Cynic  is  said  to  have  characterized 
him  as  Scythian  in  words,  and  civil  (acnxos)  in  battle.  And  it  is 
true  that  his  eloquence,  with  all  its  unrivalled  power  and  beauty, 
breathes  in  general  a  spirit  of  rudeness,  ferocity  and  violence,! 
that  contrasts  singularly,  (let  German  critics  say  what  they 
please)  with  the  politeness  of  iEschines,  whose  occasional  ribal- 
dry seems  to  us  aliquid  coronce  datum  and  mere  retaliation. 
Be  that  as  it  may,  there  is  nothing  at  all  Scythian  in  his  oration 
against  Leptines.  Whether  it  was  that  Leptines  was  an  object 
of  particular  consideration  to  Demosthenes,  or  to  whatever  cause 
we  are  to  ascribe  it,  certain  it  is,  that  numberless  objections  are 
urged  against  his  system  in  the  best  possible  temper.  Some  pas- 
sages are  distinguished  by  a  striking  degree  of  urbanity  ;$  those 
upon  Conon  and  Chabrias  are  splendid  compliments.  But,  above 
all  this,  the  argument  is  conducted  with  consummate  ability. 
The  subject,  indeed,  as  Wolf  justly  remarks,  is  placed  in  every 
possible  light  and  completely  exhausted,  and  the  speech  deserves 
to  be  regarded  as  a  master-piece  of  forensic  disputation. 

Inferior  to  the  oration  against  Leptines  only  in  tone  and  dic- 
tion, not  at  all  less  important,  (if  not  more  important  still)  for  the 
matter  it  contains,  and  rising  occasionally  into  far  higher  strains 
of  eloquence,  and  even  into  the  regions  of  the  sublime, II  the 
speech  against  Aristocrates,  has  attracted  both  from  ancient  and 
modern  critics,  quite  as  much  attention  as  the  master-piece  just 
mentioned.  Indeed,  we  doubt  whether  there  is  any  other  single 
production  of  Demosthenes  which  deserves  so  much  to  be  stu- 
died with  a  view  to  the  matter,  and  especially  which  throws  so 
much  light  upon  the  theory  of  the  Athenian  constitution,  and 
the  whole  system  of  legislation  established  by  Solon.  It  has, 
accordingly,  been  very  much  commented  upon  with  a  view  to 
these  subjects  by  learned  men,  such  as  Salmasius  and  Heraldus. 
It  is  remarkable  for  the  harmony  of  its  periods — and  yet,  strange 
to  say,  all  this  pains  was  bestowed  upon  a  piece  written  to  be 
delivered  as  his  own  by  one  Eutyches,  who  is  only  remembered 
for  having  pronounced  it.  The  oration  against  Androtio,  is,  as 
we  have  seen,  in  F.  A.  Wolfs  opinion,  the  nearest  approach  in 
point  of  exquisite  finish,  to  the  perfection  of  the  oration  against 
Leptines.     As  Androtio  the  defendant,  was  a  pupil  of  Isocrates, 

*  Msch. 

t  Since  writing  the  above,  we  remark  that  Dionysius  says  his  only  defect  is 

want  of  xailG  or  Su<r£owr' ^sia. 
)f  5,  cf.§31,  32.  IJ  §  50  sq. 


452  DEMOSTHENES, 

and  a  man  of  great  forensic  experience  and  celebrity,  Demosthenes 
is  supposed  by  critics  to  have  bestowed,  in  a  spirit  of  emulation, 
more  even  than  his  usual  pains  upon  the  composition  of  this 
speech.  The  oration  against  Timocrates  belongs  to  the  same 
category,  and  is  altogether  worthy  to  take  its  place  by  the  side 
of  the  master-pieces  just  mentioned.  It  excels  in  the  same  fea- 
tures of  close  argument,  acute,  and  searching  analysis,  condensed 
and  powerful  summing  up  of  topics.*  It  deserves  to  be  men- 
tioned, that  these  orations,  so  admirable  in  every  point  of  view, 
were  all  composed  by  Demosthenes  when  lie  was  a  young  man 
of  only  eight-and-twenty  or  thirty  years,  and,  like  his  arguments 
against  Aphobus,  when  he  was  still  a  mere  youth  in  his  teens, 
indicate,  by  their  faultless  correctness  and  elegance,  an  extraor- 
dinary precociousness  of  mind.  Wonderful  that,  beginning  thus, 
he  so  completely  surpassed  himself  by  his  subsequent  efforts, 
that  the  author  of  the  orations  against  Androlio  and  Leptines,  is 
forgotten  in  the  transceudant  glory  of  the  crowning  speech.  But 
one  of  his  peculiarities  as  an  artist  was,  that  his  whole  life  was 
progress  ;  and  it  was  progress,  because  it  was  study.  He  never 
put  out  his  lamp,  according  to  the  tradition,  until  he  was  fifty, 
and  his  best  speech  was  his  very  last— the  ripest  as  the  latest 
fruit  of  the  autumn  of  life. 

It  is  obvious  to  observe  that  the  speeches,  to  which  we  have 
just  called  the  attention  of  our  readers,  reveal  the  powers  of 
Demosthenes  in  quite  a  different  light  from  that  in  which  even 
our  best  English  writers,  Hume,  for  instance,  have  been  accus- 
tomed to  contemplate  them.  They  are  all  (except  that  against 
Midias,)  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  arguments,  as  we  should  call 
them,  on  points  of  constitutional  law,  as  much  so  as  any  ever 
delivered  in  the  supreme  court  of  the  United  States  by  the  Pink- 
neys  and  the  Wirts.  The  mover  of  a  decree  either  in  the  senate 
or  the  assembly  (^^»^a),  which  was  supposed  to  violate  one  of 
the  fundamental  laws,  was  liable  to  be  impeached  for  it  by  any 
public-spirited  citizen,  before  one  of  the  tribunals  of  the  Heliasts. 
The  only  restraint  upon  this  power  of  impeachment  was  the 
provision  that  imposed  a  fine  of  a  thousand  drachmas  upon  the 
accuser  in  case  he  failed  to  obtain  one-fifth  of  the  voices  of  the 
jury,  as  happened  to  iEschines  in  the  affair  of  the  Crown.  This 
prosecution  of  an  unconstitutional  law  (/pp^  wa^avo(awv)  was  the 
palladium  of  Solon's  legislation,  yet,  in  most  cases,  it  served  only 
to  show  how  wide  the  difference  was  between  the  theory  and 
the  practice  of  the  government  We  have  endeavored  to  demon- 
strate, in  a  former  articlet  in  this  journal,  how  little  security  there 
was,  in  that  practice,  under  the  abuses  of  a  degenerate  democ- 
racy, for  either  life,  liberty,  or  property.  A  reader  of  the  speeches 

*  1.  e.  g.  \  24  cf.  \  19,  \  25  and  26,  are  admirable  for  Ssworric:. 
t  New- York  Review,  No.  XIII. 


THE  MAN,  THE  STATESMAN,  AND  THE  ORATOR.  453 

in  question  would  be  inclined  to  question  the  accuracy  of  the 
opinion  there  expressed.  They  place,  it  must  be  owned,  in  a 
very  striking  point  of  view  the  wisdom  of  the  lawgiver,  or  rather 
(since  wisdom  ought  to  be  more  practical)  his  knowledge  of  the 
sins  that  most  easily  beset  democratic  government,  and  of  the 
restraints  necessary  to  prevent  abuses  of  power  under  it.  But 
in  truth,  whatever  of  seeming  paradox  there  may  be  in  the  opi- 
nions referred  to,  is  explained  by  the  fact,  visible  in  every  page 
of  these  speeches,  without  going  any  farther,  that  the  constitu- 
tion of  Solon  was  become  in  fact  the  cobweb  it  was  from  the 
first  wittily  pronounced  to  be  by  one  of  the  Seven  wise  men. 
The  laws  were  a  mere  name.  They  were  treated  as  obsolete. 
The  orators — the  representatives  by  profession  of  the  arbitrary 
will  of  the  people — denied  their  authority  in  argument  with  as 
little  reserve  as  they  trampled  upon  their  precepts  in  practice. 
Your  laws  are  superseded,  says  iEschines,  by  detestable  pse- 
phisms* — and  he  might  have  added  by  a  still  more  detestable 
judicature.  There  never  was  a  clearer  case  in  point,  as  we  shall 
have  to  observe  hereafter,  than  the  result  of  his  own  accusation 
of  Ctesiphon,who  had  plainly  violated  the  law  by  his  motion, 
and  who  was  almost  unanimously  acquitted  by  the  judges,  to 
the  confusion  and  ruin  of  the  prosecutor.  The  will  of  the  de- 
magogue for  the  time  being,  was  the  law  of  the  land ;  and  even 
in  reading  these  orations,  a  man  of  experience  is  enabled  suffi- 
ciently to  discern  the  true  state  of  facts.  The  very  attempts  made 
to  enforce  the  laws  in  their  pristine  severity  show  how  frequent- 
ly, how  easily,  and  how  glaringly  they  were  violated  with  im- 
punity.t 

So  much  for  the  matter  of  these  admirable  speeches.  The 
reader  will  perceive  that  it  is  difficult  to  overrate  their  importance 
to  a  philosophical  student  of  the  history  of  governments.  But 
the  point  of  view  in  which  we  now  wish  to  present  them  to  him, 
is  exclusively  philological.  It  is  plain  from  what  we  have  said 
of  the  tone,  the  diction,  and  the  general  scope  and  economy  of 
these  orations,  that  they  belong  to  a  class  entirely  different  from 
that  of  the  Philippics.  They  fully  verify  the  remark  of  Aristotle, 
that  judicial  speeches  are  altogether  more  curious  and  complex 
in  structure,  as  they  are  less  simple  and  direct  in  purpose  and 
bearing  than  the  deliberative  ;  and  are,  as  he  adds,  the  chief  object 
of  all  systems  of  rhetorical  instruction. X      He,  therefore,  who 

*  jEschin.  c.  Timarch.  §  35. 

t  "I  know  he  will  say  the  law  is  obsolete,"  is  a  common  form  of  anticipating 
the  reply  of  the  adversary. 

Who  cares  about  your  old  laws,  the  psephism  is  a  good  one.  c.  Aristocr.  §  14,  cf. 
Ibid.  §  26.  The  senate  is  bound  by  the  law  and  the  oath,  but  the  tribunals  are 
omnipotent,  c.  Timocrat.  §  34.  And  look  at  the  summing  up  in  that  speech,  and 
in  the  oration  against  Androtio,  for  the  multitude  of  laws  violated  without  scruple 
by  occasional  psephisms. 

J  Rhet.  1.  ii. 


454  DEMOSTHENES, 

knows  Demosthenes  only  by  the  Philippics  and  other  harangues 
in  the  assembly,  may  be  said  scarcely  to  know  him  at  all ;  or,  at 
any  rate,  to  have  a  most  imperfect  insight  into  his  intellectual 
character,  and  his  infinite  resources  as  an  orator.  Now  this  is 
precisely  the  case  with  the  great  majority  even  of  highly  educa- 
ted people.  Here  is  a  melancholy  instance  of  it  before  us  in  no 
less  a  personage  than  Lord  Brougham,  who  has  (or  had  some 
years  ago)  the  reputation,  among  his  admirers,  of  being  able  to 
teach  almost  any  branch  of  knowledge  lectured  on  at  the  uni- 
versity of  Edinburgh.  His  whole  dissertation  from  beginning 
to  end  is  a  tissue  of  error  and  sophistry,  which,  in  so  able  a 
person,  can  be  accounted  for  only  by  a  very  superficial  attention 
to  his  author,  or  an  imperfect  acquaintance  with  his  language, 
probably  both. 

To  do  his  lordship  justice,  we  will  permit  him  to  state  in  his 
own  language  the  propositions  to  which  we  object.  The  first 
is  that  modern  speeches  are  as  much  superior  to  the  ancient  in 
substance,  as  they  are  inferior  to  them  in  form,  and  that  is  not 
an  absolute  superiority  merely,  resulting  from  what  he  thinks 
deeper  philosophy,  larger  views,  more  diversified  information, 
and  subjects  of  greater  magnitude  and  splendor,  (as  to  all  which, 
(picere,)  but  relative  also.  That  is  that  a  modern  orator,  in  the 
very  same  place,  and  under  the  very  same  circumstances  with 
Demosthenes,  would  have  made  speeches,  better  in  point  of 
substance  for  the  practical  purposes  his  were  intended  to  accom- 
plish than  he  did,  and,  vice  versd,  that  the  Greek  would  have 
failed  in  the  House  of  Commons  by  attending  more  to  the  man- 
ner than  the  matter,  while  Mr.  Canning  was  quoting  Horace 
and  Mr.  Brougham  lecturing  on  political  economy. 

The  first  passage  we  shall  quote  is  at  pp.  428,  429. 

"It  is  impossible  to  deny  that  the  ancient  orators  fall  nearly  as  far  short 
of  the  modern  in  the  substance  of  their  orations  as  they  surpass  them  in 
their  composition.  Not  only  were  their  views  far  less  enlarged,  which 
was  the  necessary  consequence  of  their  more  confined  knowledge,  but  they 
gave  much  less  information  to  their  audience  in  point  of  fact,  and  they 
applied  themselves  less  strenuously  to  argument.  The  assemblies  of  mo- 
dern times  are  eminently  places  of  business ;  the  hearers  are  met  to  consider 
of  certain  practical  questions,  and  not  to  have  their  fancy  charmed  with 
choice  figures,  or  their  taste  gratified  with  exquisite  diction,  or  their  ears 
tickled  with  harmonious  numbers.  They  must,  therefore,  be  convinced ; 
their  reason  must  be  addressed  by  statements  which  shall  prove  that  the 
thing  propounded  is  just  or  expedient,  or  that  it  is  iniquitous  or  impolitic- 
No  (ar-fetched  allusions,  or  vague  talk,  or  pretty  conceits,  will  supply  the 
place  of  the  one  thing  needful,  argument  and  information.  Whatever  is 
beside  the  question,  how  gracefully  soever  it  may  be  said,  will  only  weary 
the  hearer  and  provoke  his  impatience ;  nay,  if  it  be  very  fine  and  very  far- 
fetched, will  excite  his  merriment  and  cover  the  speaker  with  ridicule.  Or- 
nament of  every  kind,  all  manner  of  embellishment,  must  be  kept  within 
its  subordinate  bounds,  and  made  subservient  merely  to  the  main  business. 
It  is  certain  that  no  perfection  of  execution,  no  beauty  of  workmanship, 


THE  MAN,  THE  STATESMAN,  AND  THE  ORATOR.  455 

can  make  up  for  the  cardinal  defect  of  the  material  being  out  of  its 
place,  that  is,  indifferent  to  the  question ;  and  one  of  the  most  exquisitely- 
composed  of  Cicero's  orations,  the  one  for  Archias,  could  clearly  never 
have  been  delivered  in  any  English  court  of  justice,  where  the  party  was 
upon  his  defence  against  an  attempt  to  treat  him  as  an  alien ;  though, 
perhaps,  some  of  it  might  have  been  urged  in  favor  of  a  relaxation  of  the 
law,  after  his  alienage  had  been  proved,  and  the  whole  of  it  might  have 
been  relished  by  a  meeting  assembled  to  do  him  honor." 

Now,  as  far  as  Cicero  is  concerned,  and  especially  the  speech 
for  Archias,  there  is  some  truth  in  the  objection — though  it  is 
but  fair  to  remind  the  reader  that  the  Roman  orator  begins  by 
advertising  his  audience  that  he  intends  to  deviate  for  once  from 
the  beaten  forensic  track.  But  did  Lord  Brougham  never  hear 
Sheridan  speak?  and  would  he  have  us  believe  that  he  was  not 
listened  to  with  pleasure  by  the  House?  or  that  he  was  a  man 
to  sacrifice  style,  and  point,  and  imagery,  to  dry  reasoning  and 
solid  information?  We  have  it  on  excellent  authority,  for  Lord 
Brougham  at  least,  on  his  present  utilitarian  tack,  that  Sheridan's 
famous  speech  on  the  impeachment  of  Hastings,  was  excessively 
rhetorical  and  declamatory,  as  might  be  expected  from  the  char- 
acter of  his  mind,  and  that  he  showed  more  wisdom  in  suppress- 
ing than  in  making  it.  Yet  it  had  its  merits,  no  doubt,  for  the  oc- 
casion, for  it  succeeded  better,  perhaps,  than  the  best  harangue  of 
Mr.  Fox,  who  himself,  though  a  debater  and  nothing  but  a  de- 
bater, was  so  little  intent  on  informing  his  audience,  that  he 
professed  not  to  be  able  to  comprehend  the  problems  of  political 
economy  !  As  to  Lord  Brougham's  description  of  the  sort  of 
speech  necessary  to  please  a  modern  assembly,  (by  which  he 
must  be  always  understood  to  mean  the  House  of  Commons,  for 
it  is  evident  that  very  different  things  have  had  influence  with 
other  assemblies,  as  for  instance  the  French  Convention,)  it  is 
not  an  adequate,  to  be  sure,  but  it  is,  as  far  as  it  goes,  a  very 
accurate  description  of  a  Greek  business  speech,  as  we  shall 
see.  And  if  Demosthenes  is  the  prince  of  orators,  as  he  unques- 
tionably is,  it  is  because,  coming  up  to  that  description  in  every- 
thing required  by  the  most  severe  taste,  he  adds  to  it  every  thing 
necessary  to  raise  the  language  of  truth  and  reason  into  that  of 
eloquence  and  inspiration.  Lord  Brougham's  so-called  modern 
eloquence  is  no  eloquence  at  all,  but  only  sensible  speaking: 
Demosthenes'  speaking  was  not  a  jot  less  sensible  than  that  of 
Sir  Robert  Peel  or  Lord  Lyndhurst,  but  at  the  same  time  infinitely 
more  powerful,  persuasive  and  sublime.  But  this  Lord  Brougham 
denies. 

His  second  objectionable  proposition  is  that  it  is  all  a  mistake 
to  speak  of  the  great  orator  as  a  reasoner,  for  that,  although  he 
did  something  marvellously  like  it,  and  seemed  bent  on  doing 
nothing  else,  yet  that  in  fact,  when  passed  through  his  lordship's 
crucible,  it  is  found  to  be  just  no  reasoning  at  all. 


d56  DEMOSTHENES, 

"It  is  a  common  thing  with  those  who,  because  Cicero  is  more  ornate, 
suffers  the  artifice  of  his  composition  to  appear  more  plainly  and  indulges 
more  in  amplification,  imagine  that  he  is  less  argumentative  than  the 
Greek  orators,  to  represent  the  latter,  and  especially  Demosthenes,  as  dis- 
tinguished by  great  closeness  of  reasoning.  If  by  this  is  only  meant  that  he 
never  wanders  from  the  subject,  that  each  remark  tells  upon  the  matter  in 
hand,  that  all  his  illustrations  arc  brought  to  bear  upon  the  point,  and  that 
he  is  never  found  making  any  step  in  any  direction  which  does  not  advance 
his  main  object,  and  lead  towards  the  conclusion  to  which  he  is  striving  to 
bring  his  hearers — the  observation  is  perfectly  just ;  for  this  is  a  distin- 
guishing feature  in  the  character  of  his  eloquence.  It  is  not,  indeed,  his 
grand  excellence,  because  every  thing  depends  upon  the  manner  in  which 
he  pursues  this  course,  the  course  itself  being  onequite  as  open  to  the  humblest 
mediocrity  as  to  the  highest  genius.  But,  if  it  is  meant  to  be  said  that 
those  Attic  orators,  and  especially  their  great  chief,  made  speeches  in 
which  long  chains  of  elaborate  reasoning  are  to  be  found — nothing  can  be 
less  like  the  truth.  A  variety  of  topics  are  handled  in  succession,  all  cal- 
culated to  strike  the  audience. 

"Passions,  which  predominated  in  their  minds,  are  appealed  to — feel- 
ings, easily  excited  among  them,  are  aroused  by  skilful  allusions — glaring 
inconsistencies  are  shown  in  the  advice  given  to  others — sometimes  by  ex- 
hibiting the  repugnance  of  those  counsels  among  themselves,  sometimes 
by  contrasting  them  with  other  counsels  proceeding  from  the  same  quarters. 
The  pernicious  tendency  of  certain  measures  is  displayed  by  referring, 
sometimes,  to  the  general  principles  of  human  action,  and  the  course 
which  human  affairs  usually  take;  more  frequently,  by  a  reference  to* the 
history  of  past,  and  generally  of  very  recent  events.  Much  invective  is 
mixed  with  these  topics,  and  both  the  enemy  without,  and  the  evil  coun- 
sellor within  the  walls  are  very  unsparingly  dealt  with.  The  orator  was 
addressing  hearers  who  were,  for  the  most  part,  as  intimately  acquainted 
as  himself  with  all  the  facts  of  the  case,  and  these  lay  within  a  sufficiently 
narrow  compass,  being  the  actual  state  of  public  affairs,  and  the  victories 
or  the  defeats  which  had,  within  the  memory  of  all,  attended  their  arms,  or 
the  transactions  which  had  taken  place  among  them  in  very  recent  times. 
No  detailed  statements  were,  therefore,  wanted  for  their  information.  He 
was  really  speaking  to  them  respecting  their  own  affairs,  or  rather,  respect- 
ing what  they  had  just  been  doing  or  witnessing  themselves.  Hence,  a 
very  short  allusion  alone  was  generally  required  to  raise  the  idea  which 
he  desired  to  present  before  the  audience.  Sometimes  a  word  was  enough 
for  his  purpose  ;  the  naming  of  a  man  or  a  town  ;  the  calling  to  their  recol- 
lection, what  had  been  done  by  the  one,  or  had  happened  to  the  other. 
The  effect,  produced  by  such  a  rapid  interchange  of  ideas  and  impressions, 
must  have  struck  every  one  who  has  been  present  at  public  meetings.  He 
will  have  remarked,  that  some  such  apt  allusion  has  a  power — produces  an 
electrical  effect — not  to  be  reached  by  any  chain  of  reasoning,  however 
close ;  and  that  even  the  most  highly-wrought  passages,  and  the  most  ex- 
quisite composition,  fall  far  short  of  it  in  rousing  or  controlling  the  minds 
of  a  large  assembly.  Chains  of  reasoning,  examples  of  a  fine  argumenta- 
tion, are  calculated  to  produce  their  effect  upon  a  far  nicer,  a  more  confined 
and  a  more  select  audience.  But  such  apposite  allusions — such  appropriate 
topics — such  happy  hits,  (to  use  a  homely,  but  expressive  phrase,)  have  a 
sure,  an  irresistible,  a  magical  effect  upon  a  popular  assembly.  In  these 
the  Greek  oratory  abounds,  and,  above  all,  its  greatest  master  abounds  in 
them  more  than  all  the  lesser  rhetoricians.  They  would  have  been  highly 
successful  without  the  charms  of  composition,  but  he  also  clothes  them  in 
the  most  choice  language,  arranges  them  in  the  most  perfect  order,  and 
captivates  the  ear  with  a  music  which  is  fitted  at  his  will  to  provoke  or  to 


THE  MAN,  THE  STATESMAN,  AND  THE  ORATOR.  457 

soothe,  but  ever  to  charm  the  sense,  even  were  it  possible  for  it  to  be  ad- 
dressed apart,  without  the  mind,  foo,  being  moved. 

"Let  any  one  examine  the  kind  of  topics  upon  which  those  orators  dwell, 
and  he  will  be  convinced  that  close  reasoning  was  not  their  object — that 
they  were  adapting  their  discourse  to  the  nature  of  their  audience — and 
that,  indeed,  not  a  lew  of  their  topics  were  such  as  they  would  hardly  have 
thought  of  using,  had  they  been  arguing  the  matter  stringently  with  an 
antagonist,  'hand  to  hand,  and  foot  to  foot' ;  or,  which  is  the  same  thing, 
preparing  a  demonstration  to  meet  the  eye  of  an  unexcited  reader.  It  is 
certain  that  some  of  Demosthenes' chief  topics  are  exactly  those  which  he 
would  use  to  convince  the  calm  reason  of  the.  most  undisturbed  listener  or 
reader — such  as  the  dangers  of  inaction — the  formidable,  because  able  and 
venturous,  enemy  they  had  to  contend  with — the  certainty  of  the  peril 
which  is  met  by  procrastination  becoming  greater  after  the  unprofitable 
delay.-  These,  however^  are  the  most  obvious  considerations,  and  on  these 
he  dwells  the  less,  because  of  their  being  so  obvious.  But  the  more  stri- 
king allusions  and  illustrations,  by  which  he  enforces  them,  are  not  always 
such  as  would  bear  close  examination,  if  considered  as  arguments,  al- 
though they  are  always  such  as  must,  in  the  popular  assembly  to  which  he 
addressed  them,  have  wrought  a  wondrous  effect." — pp.  431-433. 

Now,  as  to  a  speech  being  good  in  form  or  execution,  which 
is  good  for  nothing  hi  substance,  we  profess  ourselves  unable  to 
comprehend  such  a  thing.  It  smells  of  the  rhetorician's  art 
which  is  mere  pedantry,  and  never  did  and  never  will  contri- 
bute in  the  slightest  degree  to  make  any  man  really  eloquent. 
We  do  not  think  this  language  of  his  lordship  a  jot  less  absurd, 
though  somewhat  less  ludicrous,  than  an  idea  quoted,  we  think, 
by  Blair,  from  the  Pere  Rapin,  that  Cicero  must  needs  be  a  better 
speaker  than  Demosthenes,  because  he  had  seen  and  studied 
Aristotle's  Rhetoric,  whereas  the  Greek  orator  had  actually  de- 
livered and  published  his  master-pieces  before  that  work  saw  the 
light !  We  are  firm  believers  in  matter,  or,  which  is  the  same 
thing  here,  in  mind.  Our  experience — and  it  has  been,  we  sus- 
pect, on  this  point,  very  much  more  extensive  and  diversified  than 
Lord  Brougham's — is  conclusive  that  in  any  assembly  met  to  dis- 
cuss and  do  business,  the  speaker  who  really  knows  more  about 
the  matter  in  hand  than  any  body  else,  and  is  at  all  in  earnest 
about  it,  will  be  sure  to  lead,  in  spite  of  every  disadvantage  in  style 
and  delivery.  We  know  it  is  so  in  the  House  of  Representatives 
at  Washington,  for  example — a  body,  of  which,  for  many  rea- 
sons, it  is  so  difficult  to  command  the  attention,  that  we  have 
heard  intelligent  foreigners  inquire  whether  it  ever  listened  at  all. 
Yet,  it  does  listen ;  and  it  listens  to  any  one  who  has  informa- 
tion to  communicate  on  a  subject  interesting  to  it,  and  will  do  so 
with  any  thing  approaching  to  brevity.  It  listens  always  to  gen- 
tlemen who  have  established  a  reputation  for  speaking  only  to 
inform  others,  and  to  illustrate  the  question  before  the  House. 
And  so  it  is,  we  repeat,  and  so  it  has  been,  and  so  it  ever  will  be 
with  every  assembly,  rude  or  cultivated ;  in  every  country,  bar- 
barous or  civilized,  convened  for  such  purposes  as  war  and  peace, 
vol.  i. — 5S 


458  DEMOSTHENES, 

legislation  and  judicature.  It  is  only  under  very  peculiar  cir- 
cumstances, in  moments,  for  example,  of  intense  revolutionary 
excitement,  when  all  argument  is  out  of  the  question,  that  a  mere 
declaimer  can  aspire  to  any  decided  influence.  Here,  as  in  the 
sister  art, 

"Sapere  est  et  prineipium  et  ions," 

"get  wisdom — get  understanding" — 

"Verbaque  provisam  rem  non  invita  sequeniur ;" 

or,  as  Milton  quaintly  but  forcibly  expresses  it:  "Whose  mind 
soever  is  fully  possessed  with  a  fervent  desire  to  know  good 
things,  and  with  the  dearest  charity  to  infuse  the  knowledge  of 
them  into  others ;  when  such  a  man  would  speak,  his  words,  (by 
what  I  can  express,)  like  so  many  nimble  and  airy  servitors  trip 
about  him  at  command,  and  in  well-ordered  files,  as  he  would 
wish,  fall  aptly  into  their  places."*  And  not  only  does  he  com- 
mand language,  but  he  infallibly  commands  attention. 

The  idea  that  all  this,  though  perfectly  true  in  modern  times, 
is  inapplicable  to  antiquity,  is  preposterous.  If  Lord  Brougham 
really  thinks  so,  he  is  the  first  person  of  any  note  we  have  ever 
heard  of,  who  would  profit  by  that  learned  dissertation,  mentioned 
in  Gil  Bias,  to  prove  that,  at  Athens,  little  boys  cried  when  they 
were  flogged  by  their  schoolmasters,  just  as  they  do  at  Oviedo 
or  Salamanca.  Let  any  one  read  the  life  of  Demosthenes,  and 
consider  under  what  circumstances,  and  in  the  face  of  what  an 
opposition  it  was  that  he  maintained,  for  a  generation  together, 
such  a  decided  ascendant  in  that  fierce  democracy,  and  he  will 
see  at  once  the  absurdity  of  ascribing  his  wonderful  success  to 
the  art  of  tickling  the  ears  or  the  fancy  of  his  hearers  in  set 
speeches — or  to  any  other  means  than  those  which,  in  all  ages 
and  in  all  countries,  have  moved  and  controlled  the  minds  and 
the  hearts  of  men — strength  of  understanding,  strength  of  will, 
sagacity  in  counsel,  decision  in  conduct,  zeal  in  the  pursuit  of  his 
objects,  and  passionate  eloquence  to  recommend  them. 

But  not  only  is  all  that  we  have  said,  as  applicable  to  the  pub- 
lic assemblies  of  Athens,  (other  things  being  equal,  that  is  to  say,) 
as  to  those  of  any  modern  nation  ;  it  was,  if  possible  more  so. 
What  does  the  epithet  "Attic"  mean  ?  Lord  Brougham  has  read 
Cicero's  rhetorical  works;  at  least,  he  quotes  them  profusely  upon 
occasion.  He  knows,  of  course,  that  some  of  his  most  distin- 
guished contemporaries  objected  to  the  Roman  orator  that  he 
was  not  Attic,  and  that  his  constant  effort,  in  many  elaborate  es- 
says, is  to  show,  that  however  austere  the  taste  of  the  Athenians 
might  be,  it  did  sometimes  admit  of  a  copious  and  ornate  style. 
The  idea,  then,  was  not  that  substance  was  to  be  a  mere  second- 

*  An  Apology  for  Sraeetymus. 


THE  MAN,  THE  STATESMAN,  AND  THE  ORATOR.  459 

ary  thing,  but  that  it  should  be  every  thing,  and  for  that  purpose 
should  be  presented  in  a  diction  as  pure  and  simple  as  light  it- 
self. Lysias  was  the  model  they  most  affected.  The  epithets, 
by  which  Cicero  characterizes  this  style,  are  ail  expressive  of  the 
severest  taste  and  reason.*  Compare  with  this  account  of  it 
what  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus,  a  devoted  admirer  of  Lysias, 
says  of  the  prominent  beauties  of  his  elpquence.t  What  are 
they  ?  Purity  of  diction,  simple,  popular  idiomatic  language, 
with  a  studious  avoidance  of  every  thing  tropical,  poetical  or 
hyperbolical  ;  great  clearness,  both  in  words  and  matter ;  the  art, 
in  which  no  one  but  Demosthenes  ever  surpassed  him,  of  con- 
densing what  he  had  to  say,  and  rolling  it  up  and  compressing 
it  as  it  were  into  solid  masses,  to  carry  every  thought  with  the 
utmost  force  to  the  minds  of  his  hearersi — that  he  was  unrival- 
led in  narrative  and  exposition,  placing  every  topic  just  where  it 
ought  to  be,  and  not  only  distinct  but  vivid  and  graphic  in  des- 
cription, painting  all  objects  to  the  very  life,  bringing  them,  as  it 
were,  in  reality  before  the  hearer  ;  observing  in  all  things  fitness, 
decorum  and  character  ;  aiming  in  all  things  at  truth  and  nature, 
and  recommending  every  part  of  the  argument  to  the  favor  of 
his  audience,  by  a  certain  native  grace  and  sweetness  diffused 
over  the  whole.  Surely,  if  speeches,  thus  severely  chastened, 
thus  rigidly  stripped  of  every  thing  savoring  of  theatrical  pre- 
tension or  foreign  ornament,  were  successful,  (as  they  are  admit- 
ted to  have  been,)  with  the  Attic  tribunals,  it  could  only  be  by 
dint  of  thought  and  sentiment.  The  merit  of  such  a  style,  as 
that  of  every  pure  and  transparent  medium,  consists  in  bringing 
out  the  objects  themselves  in  their  proper  colors,  shapes  and  di- 
mensions. The  perfection  otform,  then,  of  which  Lord  Broug- 
ham speaks,  was  to  be  without  any  apparent  form — their  art 
studiously  concealed  itself — their  only  affectation  was  that  most 
delicate  of  all  impostures,  the  affectation  of  simplicity.  And 
this  is  so  true,  that  we  venture  to  say,  it  is  the  experience  of  every 
scholar  without  exception  who  has  studied  the  Attic  orators  that 
he  was  at  first  excessively  struck  with  a  certain  (we  wish  to  say 
statuesque)  nakedness  of  style.  Lysias  especially,  like  La  Fon- 
taine in  French,  is  never  appreciated  by  any  one  who  has  not 

*  He  calls  the  Attics  of  this  stamp  "dry  and  sound,"  as  a  gourmet  would  speak 
of  fine  old  wines — saniet  sicci.  De  Opt.  gen.  Oral.  3.  Sincemm  judicium  Atticorum 
that  incorruptible  judgment  that  would  bear  nothing  in  the  least  extravagant,  af- 
fected or  forced — nullum  verbwm  insolens,  nullum  odiosum.  In  another  place  it  is 
the  "salubrity  and  as  it  were  healthiness  of  Attic  diction,"  illam  salubritatem  At- 
tica diztionis  et  quasi  sanitatem,  which  he  contrasts  with  the  gross  and  fat  diction  of 
the  Asiatics,  (adipata.) 

*  Judic.  de  Lysia  Orat. 

|  The  phrase  is  worth  citing  in  the  original :  r\  tfvg'gscpovrfu  ret  vo^/xara  xai 
g*goyyj\uc;  ixysgovrfcc  Xsjjis — needed  in  judicial  speeches  and  very  true  d^/wv. 
c.  6.  Cicero,  speaking  of  the  harmonious  periods  of  Demosthenes,  says,  cujus  non 
tarn  vibrarent  fulmina  nisi  numeris  contorta  ferrentur,  Orat.  c.  70. 


460  DKMORTHKNES, 

made  himself  very  familiar  with  the  Greek  idioms;  and  the 
unceremonious,  business-like  way,  in  which  Demosthenes  opens 
and  treats  the  subjects  of  his  Philippics  and  other  deliberative 
speeches,  attracts  the  attention  of  a  reader,  fresli  from  Cicero,  a 
great  deal  more  than  his  sublimity  and  force  and  passionate 
earnestness. 

Lord  Brougham  evidently  supposes,  and  this  notion  is  at  the 
bottom  of  all  his  errors  upon  the  subject,  that  every  Greek  oration 
was  a  mere  theatrical  exhibition.  Indeed  he  says  so  in  so  many 
words.  There  is  barely  truth  enough  in  this  supposition  to 
'give  color  for  the  lay  gents,'  as  special  pleaders  express  it ;  but 
the  conclusions  which  he  draws  from  it  are  altogether  extrava- 
gant, and  entirely  at  variance  with  facts  familiar  to  scholars.  It 
is,  indeed,  undeniable,  that  throngs  of  curious  spectators  flocked 
from  all  parts  of  Greece  to  listen  to  some  debate  of  great  expec- 
tation,* just  as  people  of  leisure  now  repair  to  Washington  for  a 
similar  purpose ;  and  it  is  quite  natural  that  this  circumstance, 
by  imparting  more  solemnity  and  splendor  to  the  occasion,  should 
induce  the  orator  to  make  what  he  had  to  say  as  perfect  as  pos- 
sible in  its  kind.  But  how  it  should  affect  the  character  of  his 
speech  in  any  other  way,  how  it  should  induce  him  to  sacrifice 
its  real  excellencies,  and  turn  it  into  mere  declamation,  we  own, 
we  do  not  exactly  perceive.  It  is  also  true  that  a  high  degree 
of  precision  and  correctness  in  diction,  a  harmony  of  cadence,  a 
fullness  and  finish  in  periods,  not  difficult  to  attain  in  a  language 
of  such  infinite  compass  and  euphony  as  the  Greek,  were  required 
to  please  ears  susceptible  to  the  most  refined  delicacies  of  accent 
and  quantity.  Yet  a  wise  man — Phocion,  for  instancet — would 
command  their  attention  without  any  one  of  these  graces  (except 
perhaps  the  first)  to  recommend  his  oratory.  It  must  be  admit- 
ted, too,  that  Attic  taste,  so  severe,  so  exquisite,  in  every  depart- 
ment of  art,  might  not  be  as  indulgent  as  that  of  an  Elnglish  or 
American  audience,  to  a  slovenly,  or  feeble,  or  inappropriate  style 
of  speaking — that  the  most  gifted  orators,  Pericles,  for  example, 
and  Demosthenes,  were  unwilling  to  encounter  the  Demus  with- 
out full  preparation,  though  Demades  and  others  did  so  contin- 
ually— and  that  the  master-pieces  produced  by  the  efforts  made 
to  come  up  to  the  demands  of  such  a  public,  were  in  fact  the 
perfection,  the  ideal,  of  the  noblest  of  all  arts.  Then  it  must, 
also,  be  taken  into  the  account,  that  many  of  these  speeches  were 
delivered  in  vast  assemblages,  where  it  was  extremely  difficult, 
as  everything  proves,  to  command  attention,  and  where  a  little 
more  emphasis  and  effort  in  delivery  and  in  style  might  not  be 
altogether  unnecessary,  and  not  in  a  St.  Stephen's  chapel,  too 
small  to  accommodate  even  a  British  House  of  Commons,  and 

*  iEsch.  c.  Timarch.  §25. 
t  Plut.  in.  Demosth. 


THE  MAN,  THE  STATESMAN,  AND  THE  ORATOR.     461 

reducing  the  contests  of  orators  to  mere  piquant  conversation  at 
close  quarters,  over  a  table.  For  that  the  shape,  size,  and  cha- 
racter of  the  Hall — if  it  deserves  the  name — has  had  something, 
and  even  a  good  deal  to  do  with  fixing  the  style  of  English 
parliamentary  debating,  we  have,  after  some  attendance  there, 
no  doubt  whatever ;  and  we  venture  to  predict  that,  if  they  turn 
the  House  of  Commons,  as  they  now  think  of  doing,  into  a 
National  Assembly,  sitting  in  a  Beau  Locale,  they  will  presently 
become  less  colloquial — "more  Irish  and  less  nice."*  But,  after 
making  every  possible  allowance  for  the  effect  of  a  real  difference 
in  some  external  circumstances,  we  insist  upon  it  that  the  Greeks 
drew  the  line  between  the  panegyrical  oration  and  the  business 
speech — between  Gorgias  and  Isocrates  on  the  one  hand,  and 
Lysias  and  Demosthenes  on  the  other,  as  rigidly,  and  more  rig- 
idly, than  any  other  people,  modern  or  ancient.  It  would  be 
mere  waste  of  time  and  space  to  load  our  pages  with  the  evidence 
of  a  proposition  so  incontestable. t 

It  would  indeed  be  the  most  surprising  of  all  things  that  they 
who  carried  art  to  such  perfection  in  all  things,  that  every  piece 
of  marble  that  has  been  so  much  as  touched  by  a  Greek  chisel 
becomes  a  precious  stone,  and  their  very  geometry  is  a  model  of 
elegance,  (without  ceasing  to  be  geometry  on  that  account,  as 
Lord  Brougham  well  knows,)  should  not  have  perfected  that  art, 
of  all  others  the  most  indispensable  in  every  democracy,  and  in 
which  theirs,  in  fact,  lived,  and  moved,  and  had  its  being.  That 
true  eloquence  should  not  flourish  in  a  close  oligarchy,  or  even 
such  a  mitigated  one  as  governed  England  from  the  Revolution 
to  the  Reform  Bill,  (we  say  nothing  of  the  bar,)  is  not  at  all  to 
be  wondered  at.t  But,  among  the  Athenians!  The  most  ligitious 
and  disputatious  of  all  men — continually  judging  and  arguing 
causes,  as  exercising  jurisdiction  over  half  Greece — with  a  pop- 
ular assembly,  uniting  in  its  own  hands  supreme  executive  and 
judicial,  with  legislative  functions,  and  forever  in  session,  they 
lived  in  the  agora,  and  the  ecclesia.  Power,  wealth,  distinction, 
everything  that  can  excite  the  ambition  and  cupidity  of  mankind, 
and  of  the  most  ambitious,  rapacious,  and  unprincipled  of  man- 
kind, especially,  was  commanded  in  the  days  of  Demosthenes 
by  eloquence  alone.  Without  office,  place,  or  dignity,  of  any 
kind,  without  an  election,  or  a  commission  from  any  constituency, 
mere  volunteers  on  the  Bema,  to  which  the  crier  summoned  all 

*  This  idea  of  the  effect  of  the  place,  etc.,  on  the  style  of  oratory,  is  hroached 
by  Lucian,  de  Domo,  §  14, 15,  16,  and  by  the  author  of  the  dialogue  be  Causis  Cor- 
ruptee Eloquentice,  c.  39. 

f  Cic.  Orat.  12,  sq  Dionys.  Halicarn.  IIsp;  Itfoxgurovg,  passim,  especially 
§  12  (exactly  in  point).  Id.  TLsfi  rr\g  \sxtixy\s  Ayixotfdsvo-og  <$SJvo<rr,roc,  from 
beginning  to  end. 

t  Magna  ilia  et  notabilis  eloquentia  alumna  licentise,  comes  seditionum,  etc. 
See  the  dialogue  just  quoted,  De  Caus.  Corr.  Eloquent. 


402  DEMOSTHENES, 

who  might  choose  to  say  what  they  thought  of  public  affairs, 
the  orators  ruled  the  state,  were  practically  its  ministry,  had  the 
functionaries  of  the  commonwealth,  its  generals,  its  treasurers, 
at  their  mercy.  They  themselves  held  responsible  for  their 
measures  to  any  one  that  chose  to  impeach  them,  lived  in  per- 
petual war  with  one  another,  denouncing,  prosecuting,  defying 
each  other  face  to  face  before  the  people,  struggling  desperately, 
per  fas  et  ucfas,  not  merely  for  victory  and  pre-eminence,  but 
for  life  and  for  death.  And  yet,  amidst  such  fierce  and  unsparing 
conflicts,  with  every  thing  in  the  shape  of  public  and  private 
interest  to  excite  their  zeal  to  the  highest  pitch,  and  to  stimulate 
them  to  the  intensest  exertions,  Lord  Brougham  would  have  us 
believe  that  these  combats  a  mitrance,  (if  there  ever  were  such,) 
were  mere  Eglinton  tournaments,  where  mimic  knights  tilted 
upon  a  field  strown  with  saw-dust,  and  lances  not  made  to  kill 
were  shivered  for  the  amusement  of  fine  ladies  !  That  nothing 
can  be  farther  from  the  truth,  any  one  that  opens  the  Philippics 
of  Demosthenes  will  be  convinced  before  he  has  read  a  page.  lie 
will  find  the  orator  every  where  engaged  in  mortal  combat — 
literally  breathing  threatenings  and  slaughter. 

As  to  the  assertion  that  the  Greek  orators  took  less  pains  to 
inform  their  audiences  than  modern  speakers,  it  is  quite  as  gross 
a  fallacy  as  the  one  we  have  been  discussing,  and  springs,  un- 
doubtedly, from  the  same  source.  We  refer  to  what  we  have  al- 
ready said  in  regard  to  the  orations  against  Leptines,  Aristocrates, 
etc.  Not  only  are  they  as  full  of  information  as  any  speech  in 
the  four  volumes  before  us — and  Lord  Brougham,  we  suspect, 
will  hardly  deny  that  they  are  "pretty  fair  specimens  of  the  best 
English  speaking — but  to  say  nothing  of  vices  of  style  of  all 
sorts  that  abound  in  these  volumes,  we  should  be  glad  to  have 
a  single  oration  in  this  whole  collection  pointed  out,  that,  if 
England  were  no  more  than  a  tale  of  the  past,  would  attract,  by 
its  contents  alone,  as  much  attention  as  either  of  the  above  men- 
tioned productions  of  Demosthenes.  Which  of  them  will  better 
deserve  to  be  edited  by  some  future  Wolf,  with  learned  prolego- 
mena, upon  the  fiscal  system  of  Great  Britain,  or  to  be  made  a 
subject  for  the  commentaries  of  the  Petits  and  Heralduses  yet 
unborn  ?  The  fact  is  the  very  reverse  of  what  the  learned  Lord 
alleges  to  be.  The  orators  of  Athens  filled  the  places  not  only 
of  the  Parliament  and  the  Ministers,  as  we  have  just  seen,  but 
of  the  modern  Press,  the  "Fourth  Estate,"  as  well.  They  were 
all  in  all  for  the  people.  They  were  expected  to  be  thoroughly 
versed  in  public  affairs — in  the  constitution  and  the  laws,  the 
history,  the  policy,  foreign  and  domestic,  of  the  State.  This 
was  the  province,  the  profession,  the  authority,  the  very  existence 
of  a  public  man.  If  he  did  not  possess  this  information,  who 
should?     What  was  he  doing  on  the  Bema?     What  pretension 


THE  MAN,  THE  STATESMAN,  AND  THE  ORATOR.  463 

had  he  to  lead  the  Demus?  We  do  not  now  refer  to  the  puerile 
notion  which  Cicero  ascribes  to  Crassus,  in  his  dialogue  De 
Oratore,  that  the  orator  should  be  a  living  encyclopedia  of  sci- 
ence— iEschines  and  Demades,  the  latter  especially,  who  made 
it  a  boast  that  he  knew  no  school  but  the  popular  assembly,  are 
enough — if  any  example  were  needed — to  explode  that.  But, 
for  politics  and  law,  and  especially  everything  fitted  to  illustrate 
the  subjects  embraced  within  either,  his  whole  strength  lay  in 
his  knowledge  of  such  things,  and  his  skill  in  turning  it  to  ac- 
count. Rhetoric  and  Statesmanship,  indeed,  were  considered  as 
synonymous  terms.* 

Lord  Brougham  could  not  possibly  have  fallen  into  so  gross 
an  error,  had  he  not  confined  his  views  entirely  to  the  Philippics, 
and  the  two  great  orations  against  iEschines ;  though  even  with 
regard  to  these  his  remarks  are  quite  groundless.  He  seems  not 
to  have  considered  what  was  the  peculiar  character  and  objects 
of  these  famous  harangues.  The  Philippics  are  not  "chains  of 
reasoning,"  to  establish  principles  of  science ;  they  are  rapid  de- 
velopments of  practical  truths,  with  a  view  to  immediate  action — 
they  are  vehement  exhortations  to  the  performance  of  duty, 
pressing  every  topic  that  can  make  it  be  felt  as  sacred  and  impe- 
rative. They  fall  within  the  class  of  deliberative  eloquence,  as 
it  was  understood  by  the  Greeks,  who  regarded  it,  as  we  have 
seen,  as  more  simple  and  direct  than  the  judicial.  It  belonged, 
in  the  ancient  democracies  especially,  rather  to  the  category  of 
action,  than  to  that  of  science  and  speculation.  It  was,  so  to 
speak,  a  branch  of  the  executive  power.  It  aimed  at  influencing 
the  conduct  of  men  ;  it  aimed  at  stirring  them  up  to  mighty  ex- 
ertions and  high  undertakings  by  whatever  motives  are  best 
fitted  to  inspire  masses  with  the  enthusiasm  called  for  by  such 
efforts.  The  genius,  which  distinguished  the  orator  on  such  oc- 
casions, was  that  of  the  statesman  and  the  captain.  What  he 
needed  was  a  rapid  sagacity,  a  sure  coup  oVoeil  to  seize  every 
occasion  and  turn  it  to  the  best  account,  a  clear  perception  of  the 
relation  between  the  means  and  the  ends  proposed,  and  the 
talent  of  inspiring  others  with  his  own  confidence  in  the  results. 
His  eloquence  is  concerned  with  the  future,  rather  than  the 
past ;  it  deals  in  prophecy  and  conjecture  :  it  encounters  danger 
with  courage  ;  it  is  sanguine  of  success  in  spite  of  difficulties. 
But  mere  conviction  will  not  do ;  he  must  persuade,  for  his  pol- 
icy needs  the  sanction  of  others,  and  the  success  of  an  enterprize 
depends  upon  the  spirit  in  which  it  is  undertaken  :  possunt  quia 
posse  videntur.  He  must  make  his  followers,  if  possible,  as 
fanatical  as  the  armies  of  conquerors — the  Hannibal s  and  the 
Bonapartes.     He  must  make  his  people  act  like  one  man,  and 

*  See  Wachsmuth,  Greek  Antiq.  v.  2.  p.  196,  (transl.)  Pollux,  4.  16,  for  the 

py]To?sg  itoXirsvo^svoi,  Hermann  Manual. 


464  DEMOSTHENES) 

that  man  a  hero — he  must  oppose  a  factitious  Philip  to  the  real 
Philip.  But  this  is  not  to  be  done  by  long  trains  or  chains  of 
reasoning;  how  absurd  and  pedantic  would  such  things  be,  were 
they  even  possible,  under  the  circumstances  in  question  !  He 
must  address  himself  to  the  motives  of  human  conduct.  He 
must  show  that  his  measures  are  practicable,  are  politic,  are  fit, 
are  morally  necessary.  To  this  end  sentiment  is  one  of  his 
surest  resources — the  sense  of  honor,  the  sense  of  duty,  the  ex- 
ample of  an  illustrious  ancestry,  the  pride  of  long  established 
superiority,  the  sacred  obligation  of  transmitting  to  our  children 
the  heritage  of  liberty  and  glory  handed  down  to  us  from  our 
fathers.  He  resorts  continually  to  topics  like  these,  not  because 
he  has  no  better  ones,  but  because  in  fact  no  others  can  possibly 
supply  their  place.  In  such  cases,  the  end  of  all  reasoning  is  to 
show  that  what  we  do,  or  will  that  others  shall  do,  is  reasonable, 
and  this  he  does  by  showing  that,  being  what  they  are,  it  is  pro- 
per, it  is  becoming,  it  is  right,  it  is  indispensable  that  his  hearers 
should  pursue  the  course  pointed  out.  He  deals,  therefore,  not 
in  syllogism  and  dissertation,  but  in  maxims,  in  statements,  in 
example  and  enthymeme.*  He  lifts  them  up  to  the  height  of  his 
argument  by  working  in  them  a  moral  regeneration.  How  else 
can  he  persuade  them?  How  is  he  to  prove  to  cowards  that 
they  ought  to  rush  into  the  midst  of  dangers — to  the  slothful, 
that  they  should  be  incessantly  vigilant  and  active — to  the  lux- 
urious and  corrupt,  that  they  should  prefer  "hard  liberty  before 
the  easy  yoke  of  servile  pomp?"  He  not  only  presses  with  the 
greatest  force  all  the  topics  called  for  by  the  subject  and  the  oc- 
casion, but  what  is  a  far  more  difficult  task,  he  breathes  into  his 
audience  a  soul  to  appreciate  them.  Is  he  not  a  reasoneron  that 
account  1  And,  if  that  is  not  reasoning,  which  urges  with  the 
greatest  force  the  best  reasons  that  can  be  imagined  to  produce 
conviction  under  the  given  circumstances,  what  is  ?  And  is  it 
not,  at  all  events,  absurd,  to  speak  de  haut  en  has,  as  Lord 
Brougham  does,  of  such  a  prodigious  triumph  of  mind,  warmed 
and  elevated  by  the  most  heroical  spirit,  as  if  it  were  a  mere 
theatrical  pomp  of  words  ?  To  put  an  analogous  case  ;  suppose 
Lord  Chatham,  during  his  immortal  quinquennium,  instead  of 
displaying  his  genius  in  action,  by  a  prompt,  peremptory  and 
absolute  exercise  of  a  gigantic  executive  power,  wielded  by  his 
will  and  turned  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  wherever  he  saw  a 
vulnerable  spot  in  the  body  of  the  enemy's  empire,  had  been 
compelled,  as  Demosthenes  was.  to  go  into  a  popular  assembly 
and  obtain  its  previous  consent;  does  any  body  suppose  that  the 
occasional  inspirations  of  that  great  and  ruling  practical  mind 
would  have  been  uttered  in  long  "chains  of  reasoning,"  in  the 

♦Arist.  Rhet.  11.20. 


AND  THE  ORATOR.  465 

House  of  Commons,  or  in  pregnant  harangues  after  the  fashion 
of  Demosthenes  '\ 

If  we  are  right  in  this  view  of  the  subject,  the  Philippics  of 
Demosthenes  are  precisely  what  we  should  a  priori  expect  them 
to  be  under  the  circumstances.     They  are  still  more — they  are, 
like  every  thing  else  he  has  left,  perfect  in  their  kind — the  ideal 
of   deliberative   eloquence   in   a   simple   democracy,    attacked, 
threatened,  beset  on  all  sides  by  a  new  and  formidable  foe.     We 
shall  presently,  when   we  come  to  speak  of  Demosthenes  as  a 
statesman,  have  occasion  to  remark  more  particularly  on  that 
prophetic  sagacity  which  enabled  him  to  discern  in  Philip — long 
before  others  saw  any  serious   danger  on  that  side — the  future 
destroyer  of  Greece.     But  it  was  difficult  for  some  time  to  con- 
vince the  people  of  Athens  that  a  "man  of  Macedon"  could  pos- 
sibly entertain  so  audacious  a  project,  or,  if  he  did,  that  without 
a  navy,  and  without  the  cooperation  of  some  of  the  leading 
Greek  states,  he  had  the  least  chance  of  accomplishing  it.     The 
orator  had,  therefore,  a  double  task  to  perform.     He  had  to  show 
that  Philip  really  was  formidable,  but  that,  if  met  at  once  with 
powerful  and  systematic  resistance,  his  ascendancy  in  the  north, 
founded  as  it  was  on  fraud,  injustice  and  violence,  would  be  ef- 
fectually overthrown.     This  task  he  performs  as  no  other  man 
who  ever  addressed  a  popular  assembly  could  aspire  to  perform 
it.     His  portraiture  of  Philip  shows  how  clearly  he  had  conceived 
his  character  and  designs,  and  how  worthy  he  was  to  be  the  se- 
lected champion  of  Greece  against  that  great  man.     He  saw  all 
the  bearings  of  his  policy — he  felt  the  impression  of  his  strong 
will  and  his  ambitious,  persevering  and  indomitable  spirit — he 
exposes  the  arts  of  corruption  by  which  he  makes  himself  a 
party  in  every  state,  and  undermines  cities  otherwise  unconquer- 
able— he  paints  him  in  his  campaigns  exposed  to  hardship,  to 
danger,  arrested  by  no  obstacle,  discouraged  by  no  difficulty, 
patiently  waiting  where  he  could  not  speedily  execute,  persever- 
ing always  to  the  end  ;  though  a  voluptuary,  a  free  liver,  a  boon 
companion,  loving  to  pass  his  evenings  over  the  bottle  with 
actors  and  gleewomen,  yet  sacrificing  every  comfort  without 
hesitation,  when  he  had  an  object  to  carry,  exposing  his  life  as 
if  he  had  nothing  to  live  for,  giving  up  to  fortune  any  part  of  his 
body  she  asked  for,  now  an  eye,  then  some  other  member,  asking 
no  compensation  of  her  but  success,  and   obtaining  that  always 
and  every  where,  until  a  few  more  steps  in  his  progress  would 
bring  his  battering-rams  up  to  the  very  gates  of  Athens.     Let 
any  man  versed  in  the  history  oi  those  times  read  over  these 
orations  of  Demosthenes,  and  he  will  acknowledge  that  every 
view  that  could  be  presented  by  a  statesman,  that  eyery  topic, 
which  a  man  thinking  and  feeling  on  the  subject  of  Athenian 
rights  and  power  as  the  orator  thought  and  felt,  could  imagine 
vol.  i. — 59 


466  DEMOSTHENES, 

for  the  purpose  of  awaking  a  degenerate  people  to  a  sense  of 
their  dangers  and  a  determination  to  resist  them,  is  pressed  with 
the  most  evident  reason,  as  witli  unrivalled  power.  What  would 
Lord  Brougham  have  had  him  do  more  ?  What  would  he — 
master  of  all  modern  science — have  done  in  his  place?  He  has 
given  us  specimens  of  his  skill  at  translations,  which  are  truly 
Demosthenes  done  into  Brougham.  Suppose  he  furnish  us  with 
a  substitute  better  than  the  original,  and  show  us  what  "chains 
of  reasoning"  would  have  kept  out  the  conqueror  so  long? 
Voltaire  scoffs  at  somebody  for  attempting  to  demonstrate  the 
existence  of  a  God  by  "X  ptus  Y  equal  to  Z."  Would  Lord 
Brougham  defend  a  city  in  the  same  way  ?  or  instead  of  Demos- 
thenes, play  Duns  ? 

The  strictures  of  the  learned  lord  on  the  speech  for  the  crown 
strike  us  as  not  less  erroneous  than  what  he  says  of  the  Philip- 
pics. We  concede  that  such  a  harangue  would  have  been  out 
of  place  as  an  argument  in  the  Exchequer  Chamber:  and,  had 
the  debate  been  confined  to  the  issue  in  law,  iEschines  would 
certainly  have  carried  his  point.  We  have  great  doubt,  however, 
nay,  we  more  than  donbt,  whether  he  would  have  been  success- 
ful, under  similar  circumstances,  before  an  English  jury,  though 
controlled  and  directed  by  an  English  judge.  But  Demosthenes 
was  not  addressing  a  tribunal  accustomed  to  confine  the  evidence 
and  the  argument  to  a  single  issue,  joined  upon  record.  This 
strict  and  salutary  rule  of  English  pleading,  so  essential  to  the 
proper  operation  of  the  system  of  trial  by  jury,  was  unknown  to 
Greek  judicature.  There  was,  to  be  sure,  a  law  forbidding  the 
orators  to  wander  from  the  matter  in  hand,  (S£«  <rou  irgayii.aros 
Xs'ys»v),*  but  it  was  no  more  enforced  in  practice  than  that  other 
law  which  required,  in  all  debates  in  the  ecclesia,  the  subject  to 
be  first  spoken  to  by  men  over  fifty  years  of  age.  The  popular 
tribunals  (for  so  they  all  were)  of  Athens  looked  upon  them- 
selves as  a  mere  commission  of  the  general  assembly,  and  as  ex- 
ercising in  that  capacity  an  arbitrary  sovereign  power.  Law,  as 
a  science,  had  never  attained  to  any  great  perfection  at  Athens, 
and,  if  it  had,  in  a  democracy  so  licentious,  so  immoral,  so  agi- 
tated, the  sublime  function  of  judicature  would,  under  any  cir- 
cumstances, 'probably  have  been  perverted  and  abused.  We 
have  already  observed  that  the  arbitrary  conduct  of  the  courts  is 
quite  consistent  with  the  array  of  statutes  intended  to  prevent  it, 
which  we  see  in  many  of  the  orations  of  Demosthenes.  This, 
however,  we  must  say  for  him,  that  his  pleadings,  both  in  pri- 
vate and  in  public  causes,  are  as  much  superior  to  those  of  Ly- 
sias  in  tone  and  topics,  as  they  are  in  force,  point,  condensation, 
and  eloquence.  .This  is  one  of  the  merits  of  that  extraordinary 
man,  in  most  things  far  above  the  age  in  which  he  lived,  Ac- 
*  Lys.  c.  Simon,  §  15. 


THE  MAN,  THE  STATESMAN,  AND  THE  ORATOR.  467 

cordingly  his  judicial  speeches  are  generally  exceptions  to  the 
practice,  universal  with  others,  of  urging  all  the  topics,  however 
remote  from  the  point  at  issue,  best  calculated  to  inflame  and 
prejudice  the  minds  of  the  court  against  an  adversary,  and  make 
him  too  odious  to  hope  for  justice. 

If  his  speech  on  the  Crown  constitutes,  as  it  does,  an  excep- 
tion to  his  usual  practice,  it  is  because  the  occasion  itself  was 
altogether  peculiar.  The  technical  issue  was  entirely  lost  sight 
of  in  the  real  one.  This  often  happens  even  in  modern  assem- 
blies. One  of  the  most  celebrated  debates,  perhaps  the  most 
celebrated,  in  our  recent  history,  is  that  on  Foote's  resolution  in 
1830.  Where  was  that  resolution  so  much  as  touched  upon  1 
Mr.  Webster,  in  his  very  happy  opening  of  that  speech,  which 
alone  would  carry  his  name  down  to  posterity,  alludes  to  it  once 
only,  to  justify  himself  for  dismissing  it  altogether  from  his 
thoughts.  Demosthenes  does  not  "assume,"  as  Lord  Brougham 
affirms,  "that  his  whole  public  life  is  put  in  issue  :"  it  notoriously 
was  so.  He  was  pleading  for  a  crown,  meant  to  be  conferred  on 
him  as  the  reward  of  all  his  labors  as  a  statesman,  a  citizen,  and 
a  devoted  patriot.  That,  and  that  alone,  gave  the  least  interest 
to  the  discussion.  That,  and  that  alone,  provoked  the  hostility 
of  iEschines,  and  overcame  his  habitual  unwillingness  to  speak, 
and  especially  to  address  an  audience  which  he  could  not  but 
know  was  strongly  prejudiced  against  him,  and  almost  entirely 
devoted  to  his  mighty  rival.  His  only  chance  of  success,  to  be 
sure,  was  in  his  unanswerable  argument  on  the  point  of  law, 
and  under  cover  of  that  he  could  wreak  "the  hoarded  vengeance" 
of  years  upon  his  detested  adversary,  with  some  hope,  at  least, 
of  an  apparent  triumph — for  a  real  one  was  evidently  out  of 
the  question  before  an  Athenian  jury  at  that  time.*  He,  accord- 
ingly, insists  that  they  shall  keep  Demosthenes  to  the  legal  issue, 
while  he  expatiates  at  large  into  the  history,  public  and  private, 
of  his  life.  His  demand  was  a  mere  rhetorical  artifice  ;  he  knew 
it  would  be  refused.  The  cause  of  Demosthenes  was  their 
own  ;  the  history  of  his  administration,  however^  disastrous, 
they  thought  the  glory  of  the  state,  and  they  sympathized  with 
him  too  deeply  in  every  syllable  he  uttered  to  think  of  abridging 
his  account  of  it  in  the  least.  What,  indeed,  did  it  signify  to 
men  who  had  survived  Cheronea,  and  seen  Thebes  effaced  from 
the  earth,  and  the  liberties  of  Greece  trodden  under  foot  by  Ma- 
cedonian satraps,  whether  one  of  those  crowns,  of  which  they 
were  then  habitually  so  lavish,  could  be  voted  to  a  public  officer 
before  he  had  settled  his  accounts,  or  should  be  proclaimed  in 
one  assembly  rather  than  another? 

*  No  better  evidence  is  wanting  of  this  than  the  appeal  of  Demosthenes  to  the 
judges  whether  they  did  not  know  iEschines  to  be  a  corrupt  tool  of  Philip — an- 
swered by  them  in  the  affirmative.    This  was  in  an  early  part,  too,  of  his  speech. 


4(58  DEMOSTHENES, 

Lord  Brougham,  proceeding  with  his  critical  examination  of 
this  speech,  comes  at  length  to  "the  most  celebrated  passages  of 
the  whole,"  and  admitting — we  will  not  say  how  consistently — 
that  "this  truly  magnificent  passage  cannot  be  too  often  referred 
to,  or  its  merits  too  highly  extolled,"  endeavors,  nevertheless,  to 
show  that  it  is  "not  a  piece  of  close  and  sustained  argumenta- 
tion." We  can  only  afford  the  space  necessary  to  animadvert 
upon  what  he  says  of  "the  famous  oath."     It  is  as  follows  : — 

<wNow,  every  way  splendid  and  prodigious  as  this  famous  burst  of  elo- 
quence is.  in  point  of  argument,  and  if  viewed  as  a  piece  of  reasoning,  it  is 
positively  nothing.  For  it  would  then  stand  thus,  and  this  would  be  the 
argument : — 'My  counsels  led  to  your  defeat  at  Cheronea  ;  but  because  you 
won  four  or  five  great  victories  by  following  other  counsels,  or  which  is  the 
same  thing,  these  counsels  in  other  circumstances,  therefore  I  was  justified 
in  the  disastrous  advice  I  gave  you.'  Or  thus  :  'You  gained  great  victo- 
ries at  Marathon,  Salamis,  Platsea,  and  Artemisium  ;  therefore  you  were 
justified  in  fighting  at  Cheronea,  where  you  were  defeated.'  Then  as  to 
the  funeral  honors,  the  argument  would  stand  thus:  'The  victorious  sol- 
diers, who  were  slain  in  the  successful  battles  of  former  times,  were  buried 
with  public  honors ;  therefore  the  state  rewards  those  who  fall  in  defeat ;' 
and  consequently  the  counsels  are  not  to  be  blamed  which  are  bold,  al- 
though they  lead  to  disaster.'  " 

We  have  never  met  with  a  perversion  more  pitiable  than  thisr 
and  we  have  no  scruple  in  saying  that  a  mind  capable  of  it  is 
incapable  of  appreciating  Demosthenes.  For,  in  the  first  place, 
with  regard  to  '^he  funeral  honors,"  the  orator  does  not  confine 
his  allegation  to  those  who  fell  at  Marathon,  etc.,  but  extends  it 
expressly  to  "many  others,"*  buried  at  public  expense,  all  alike 
honored,  not  the  victorious  and  the  successful  only  ;t  "and  right- 
ly," he  adds — "For  the  duty  of  good  men  and  true  had  been 
equally  performed  by  all,  their  success  was  various  according  to 
the  fortune  allotted  to  each  by  the  providence  of  God."  These 
are  the  words  of  Demosthenes,  and  our  readers  will  at  once  per- 
ceive that  whatever  is  illogical  in  Lord  Brougham's  proposition 
belongs  to  himself. 

The  other  part  of  the  famous  passage  speaks  for  itself,  but  to 
do  it  full  justice  it  must  be  taken  in  connection  with  the  whole 
context  of  the  argument. 

The  peace  party  argued  after  the  fashion  of  Lord  Brougham. 
It  is  all  very  well,  said  they,  to  prate  about  Marathon  and  Sala- 
mis, provided  you  are  pretty  sure  of  success.  But  why  lead  us 
into  an  unavailing  and  disastrous  struggle?  Why  not  submit 
quietly  at  first,  instead  of  waiting  until  defeat  left  you  no  alterna- 
tive? Your  Quixotic  resistance  has  only  made  matters  much 
worse.     You  left  a  thousand  of  your  fellow  citizens  dead  upon 

*  Kai  tfoXXou?  £<re£ou£. 

f  'Atfavras  6/xq»w£  ....  ou^i  toujt  xaro^wtfavrag  ou6s  roue:  x^arrjo'avracr 

fAOVOVJ. 


THE  MAN,  THE  STATESMAN,  AND  THE  ORATOR.  469 

the  field,  and  two  thousand  prisoners  in  the  hands  of  the  foe,  to 
whose  moderation  alone  we  owe  the  salvation  of  the  city  itself. 
Such  are  the  fruits  of  your  insane  counsels  and  your  predestina- 
ted ill-luck,  and  yet  you  live,  and  not  only  live,  but  come  here 
into  the  midst  of  those  on  whom  you  have  brought  so  many 
calamities,  and  have  the  effrontery  to  ask,  not  for  pardon  or 
oblivion,  but  for  thanks  and  a  crown  !  Certainly  his  position 
was  a  very  trying  one,  and  nothing  can  give  us  a  higher  concep- 
tion of  his  influence  as  a  man,  a  politician  and  an  orator,  than 
the  fact  that,  with  Lord  Brougham's  unanswerable  argument 
against  him,  he  succeeded,  in  the  midst  of  those  very  disasters, 
in  convincing  the  people  that  they  had  done  only  what  they 
were  bound  to  do,  then  and  at  all  times.  He  told  them  that  the 
issue  of  all  human  counsels  was  in  the  hands  of  God ;  that  he 
had  not  had  the  command  of  the  army,  and  so  was  not  strictly 
responsible  for  its  defeat ;  but,  even  were  he  fairly  called  to  ac- 
count for  it,  he  should  think  himself  acquitted  by  showing  that 
everything  had  been  done  that  depended  on  his  foresight,  dili- 
gence and  courage  ;  they  had  discharged  their  duty  as  Athenians, 
and  left  the  consequences  to  Heaven.  It  was  a  cheap  wisdom 
which  had  nothing  to  say  beforehand,  but  would  denounce,  after 
the  event,  measures  of  which  it  might  and  (if  they  were  really 
so  bad)  ought  to  have  prevented  the  adoption — like  a  physician 
at  a  funeral,  mentioning  for  the  first  time  the  prescriptions  that 
would  have  saved  the  patient.  "If  this  man  had  done  so  or  so, 
he  had  not  died."  s^ovr/irs,  sira,  wv  \sysig*  This  is  the  topic, 
which,  as  was  remarked  by  some  of  the  old  critics,  he  was  al- 
ways insisting  on.t  Do  not  judge  by  the  general  result ;  examine 
each  measure  upon  its  own  merits,  in  reference  to  the  circum- 
stances under  which  it  was  adopted.  But  that  answer,  however 
satisfactory  to  his  hearers,  does  not  satisfy  him — he  is  not  content 
to  place  his,  or  rather  their  case,  upon  such  low  though  safe 
ground.  Any  other  orator,  iEschines  or  Lord  Brougham,  for 
instance,  would  have  stopped  there,  and  thought  the  argument 
exhausted.  Not  so,  the  heroical  imitator  of  the  glorious  past. 
He  ventures  to  go  much  farther ;  he  disdains  to  skulk  behind 
the  uncertainty  of  events,  and  to  ask  indulgence  and  pardon  for 
human  weakness.  He  wants  no  forgiveness ;  he  needs  none ; 
he  throws  away  the  advantage  of  his  obvious  and  unanswerable 
defence.  He  challenges  his  adversary  forth  upon  the  ground  on 
which  he  means  to  plant  his  own  fame  for  ever.  He  concedes 
that  the  contest,  instead  of  being  a  doubtful  one — so  doubtful, 
that  Philip  himself,  when  it  was  over,  looked  back  to  it  with  a 
feeling  of  awe — had  been  altogether  desperate ;  and  he  maintains 
that  the  example  of  their  ancestors,  who  had  resolutely  rejected 

*  n.  gsyuvov,  §  71.    See  66.  f  Theo.  Sophist.  Progym,  c.  11. 


470  DEMOSTHENES, 

all  offers  of  peace  and  protection  from  the  Mede,  if  they  would 
only  consent  to  his  conquering  the  rest  of  Greece,  and  had  chosen 
rather  to  abandon  their  hearths  and  altars,  and  to  give  up  their 
fair  city  with  its  most  holy  temples  to  be  sacked  and  devastated 
by  a  barbarous  foe,  with  no  hope  or  resource  but  in  "the  courage 
never  to  submit  or  yield,"  and  their  gallant  ships  to  fight  it  out 
unto  the  last — that  their  position  at  the  head  of  the  civilized 
world,  and  the  duties  it  imposed  upon  them — left  them  no  alter- 
native but  to  resist — to  resist  with  arms  in  their  hands — to  resist 
at  all  hazards,  to  the  uttermost  extremity,  and  be  the  consequen- 
ces what  they  might.  Even  Lord  Brougham  himself,  with  a  tem- 
perament most  un-Demosthenian.  and  treating  this  whole  matter 
as  honest  Jack  FalstarT  discusses  honor,  admits  this  splendid  and 
prodigious  passage  to  be  successful — in  spite  of  its  being  just  no 
argument  at  all — and  we  venture  to  say  that  no  man  capable  of 
interpreting  Greek  prose  ever  reads  this  chapter  with  its  equally 
admirable  context,  without  experiencing  some,  at  least,  of  the 
tumultuous  enthusiasm  which  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus*  de- 
clares is  awakened  in  him  by  the  eloquence  of  by  far  the  mightiest 
orator  that  ever  swayed  the  souls  of  men.  Nobody  has  the  least 
doubt  that  the  paradox,  so  bold  for  a  degenerate  people,  that 
Demosthenes  begs  they  will  not  reject  it  till  they  hear  him  out 
with  it,  nobody  has  a  shadow  of  doubt  but  that  it  is  fully  es- 
tablished long  before  he  has  done  with  it.  There  is  not  a  man 
of  us  all  but  is  ready  to  swear  with  him  that  it  was  all  perfectly 
right,  and  would  have  been  so,  though  Athens  had  been  blotted 
out  for  ever  from  the  face  of  the  earth,  and  nothing  left  of  her 
but  the  glory  of  such  a  defeat.  But  then,  it  seems,  though  the 
topic  is  so  satisfactory,  and  so  irresistibly  put,  it  is  no  argument, 
and  why  ?  Because  the  great  men,  whose  example  is  cited  and 
whose  merit  Demosthenes  alleges  to  have  consisted  in  their 
courage,  undismayed,  even  in  what  seemed  a  desperate  case, 
having,  in  fact,  succeeded  after  all,  (though  that,  according  to 
the  hypothesis,  is  a  perfectly  immaterial  circumstance,)  it  was 
not  "a  case  that  ran  oji  all  fours"  with  the  one  before  the 
court.  What  is  to  be  done  with  such  Nisi-Prius  cavilling? 
c^bPovr/jrs  ri  "hiystg. 

This  part  of  the  argument  of  Demosthenes  rests  upon  an 
illustrious  precedent,  or  rather  a  series  of  illustrious  precedents, 
the  history  of  Athens  in  the  day  of  her  glory  and  power.  He 
aims  to  show  that,  in  this  second  attempt  of  a  barbarian  (as  he 
pronounces  Philip)  to  conquer  Greece,  her  position  had  been 
precisely  what  it  was  at  the  time  of  the  first,  and  that  his  policy, 
as  her  adviser,  had  been,  in  all  respects,  except  what  he  labors 
throughout  his  whole  speech  to  prove  was  wholly  immaterial — 

*  II.  T.  X.  A.  £S|V0T7]T0£. 


THE  MAN,  THE  STATESMAN,  AND  THE  0RA10R.  471 

success  in  the  issue — identical  with  that  of  Miltiades  and  The- 
mistocles.  What  he  regards  as  the  great  feature  in  the  conduct 
of  that  heroic  age  was  the  sublime  spirit  of  self-sacrifice  in  the 
people  of  Athens.  Spurning  at  all  terms,  however  tempting  to 
baser  natures,  from  the  enemy,  they  had  chosen,  rather  than  see 
the  liberty  and  civilization  of  Greece  overthrown  without  an 
effort  to  save  it,  to  abandon  their  country,  for  many  reasons  pe- 
culiarly sacred  in  their  eye,  and  had  determined,  should  events 
be,  as  seemed  probable,  unfavorable,  to  emigrate  for  ever  to  some 
distant  clime. 

It  was  not  because  Themistocles  had  conquered  at  Salamis 
that  his  name  was  immortal — that  only  proved  his  skill  and 
address  as  a  captain — but  what  made  him  a  hero,  and  gives  to 
the  whole  story  of  the  war  the  air  of  mythology  or  epic  poetry, 
was  that  he  had  fought  there  under  such  desperate  circumstan- 
ces— hazarding  the  very  existence  of  the  state  upon  a  single  cast 
of  the  die.  It  was  the  spirit,  the  generous  devotedness,  the  nice 
sense  of  what  was  due  to  the  superiority  of  Greek  nature,  and 
the  unshaken  determination  to  live  Greeks  or  live  no  more.  It 
was  the  choice  of  Achilles  : 

K5j£a  <$'  syu  ro-rs  ^sgofxai,  oirKors  xsv  6r\ 
Zsvg  s&i Kr\  rsXetfai,  r\o'  adavaroi  Gsoi  aXkor 
Oj8s  yatj>  ovbs  f3ir\  ttI^axkrlog  cpvys  K?j£a,  x.  t.  X. 

II.  18.  115. 

Certainly  the  whole  reasoning  of  Demosthenes  proceeds  upon 
the  assumption  that  all  this  is  right.  If  you  deny  his  principle, 
there  is  an  end  of  the  whole  argument,  for  one  of  the  first  rules 
of  logic  is  that  there  is  no  disputing  with  him  that  questions 
principles.*  How  should  you  prove  to  a  Quaker  that  any  war 
was  just,  or  necessary,  or  glorious  1  How  could  Sir  John's  ar- 
gument on  the  point  of  honor  be  refuted  to  the  satisfaction  of  a 
jury  of  Falstaffs  ?  If  Lord  Brougham  does  not  feel  and  acknow- 
ledge the  force  of  the  precedent,  as  he  seems  not  to  do,  then  he 
is  no  fit  judge  of  Demosthenes  or  his  reasoning — the  whole  mat- 
ter is  to  him  coram  non  judice.  But,  if  he  admits  the  premises 
of  the  orator,  his  conclusion  is  irresistible  ;  and  the  verdict  of 
the  only  tribunal  competent  to  do  it  full  justice — the  people  of 
Athens — has  settled  the  question  for  ever.  Nor,  indeed,  do  we 
envy  him  that  reads  this  wonderful  oration— wonderful  in  every 
thing  that  can  enter  into  the  composition  of  a  perfect  speech,  but 
most  of  all  in  the  heroical  elevation  of  sentiment — without /eeZ- 
ing  it  to  be  true  that  the  motives,  the  conduct,  the  spirit  of  the 
contest,  were  those  of  Salamis  and  Artemisium — that  this  spirit 
had  moved  the  mighty  orator  from  the  beginning,  as  it  did  to  the 
end  of  his  great  and  tragical  career — had  made  him  throw  him- 

*  Contra  negantem  principia  non  est  disputandum. 


472  DEMOSTHENES, 

self  into  the  breach  on  the  memorable  occasion,  painted  in  all  its 
terrors  (in  this  very  speech,)  of  the  sudden  capture  of  Elateia  by 
Philip,  when  no  other  public  man  durst  utter  an  opinion  or  pro- 
pose a  measure — had  dictated  his  immortal  manifesto,  as  full  of 
statesman-like  wisdom  and  high  patriotism,  as  of  matchless  elo- 
quence*— had  gone  with  him  on  his  embassy  to  Thebes,  and 
there  armed  him  with  invincible  might,  and  insured  him  a  com- 
plete triumph  over  every  difficulty  of  sloth,  and  fear,  and  rooted 
prejudice,  and  over  the  most  formidable  opposition  from  the  par- 
tizans  of  Philip — and  was  now.  in  this  last  solemn  account  of  his 
stewardship,  by  the  lofty  tones  in  which  the  examples  of  the 
past  were  invoked  to  justify  his  measures,  attesting  in  the  most 
unequivocal  manner  their  moral  identity.  As  to  his  failure  in 
the  great  result,  we  shall  say  more  of  that  hereafter,  but  the  ora- 
tor has  not  left  us  to  conjecture  the  disadvantages  under  which 
he  labored  in  his  contest  with  Philip.  In  a  passage  of  this  very 
speech,  they  are  most  clearly  and  forcibly  summed  up.t 

But  we  have  already,  perhaps,  dwelt  too  long  upon  this  part 
of  the  subject,  and  we  must  hasten  to  another. 

The  second  volume,  at  the  head  of  this  article,  is  one  of  many 
contributions  to  the  literature  of  Demosthenes  which  Professor 
Westermann  has  made  within  a  few  years  past.  This  little  vol- 
ume contains  his  remarks  upon  the  causes  which  the  orator  ar- 
gued himself,  in  contradistinction  to  those  wherein  he  furnished 
arguments  to  others.  These  were  the  Lis  Tzitorid,  or  his  action 
of  account  against  his  guardians — the  Lis  Midiana,  or  his  action 
against  Midias  for  a  ruffianly  assault  upon  him,  of  which  we  have 
already  spoken — the  two  contests  with  iEschines  on  the  Em- 
bassy and  the  Crown — the  Lis  Aristogeitonia,  two  declamatory 
pieces,  certainly  not  genuine — and  the  Lis  Harpalica,  involving 
the  famous  charge  of  corruption  against  him,  for  extending  his 
protection  to  the  fugitive  treasurer  of  Alexander,  and  sharing  in 
the  fruits  of  his  famous  embezzlement.  The  book  closes  with 
an  epimetrum,  in  which  the  author  treats  of  the  repetitions  that 
occur  in  the  orations  of  Demosthenes,  and  animadverts  upon 
certain  critical  remarks  of  Lord  Brougham  in  regard  to  them. 
We  shall  take  notice  of  these,  if  our  space  admit  of  it,  by  and  by. 

1.  The  two  speeches  against  Aphobus  were  delivered  when 
Demosthenes  was  only  eighteen  or  twenty  years  of  age;  the 
third  is  condemned  as  spurious.  Crassus,  in  the  Dialogue  de 
Oratore,t  mentions  his  appearing  before  the  public,  on  an  im- 
portant occasion,  at  almost  as  early  an  age.  In  the  case  of  De- 
mosthenes, the  wonder  is  greatly  increased  by  the  extreme  matu- 
rity of  thought  and  style  that  distinguishes  these  speeches.  This 
was,  indeed,  so  remarkable,  that  his  master  Isaeus  was  charged 
with  having  helped  him  in  the  composition  of  them.  The  only 
*  De  Coronfc,  §  55.  t  Ibid.  §  65.  *  L.  3,  c.  20. 


THE  MAN,  THE  STATESMAN,  AND  THE  ORATOR.  473 


difficulty  in  the  way  of  that  supposition  is,  that  they  happen  to 
be  better  than  any  thing-  the  said  master  has  done  for  himself. 
The  peroration  of  the  first  is  extremely  pathetic,  and  there  is  one 
point  in  it  (§  13)  that  is  particularly  well  reasoned.  The  speech 
is  in  other  respects  a  dry  matter  of  account,  which  he  states, 
item  by  item,  with  the  precision  of  a  master  in  chancery.  He 
appears,  however,  to  make  out  his  case  very  clearly,  and  the 
judgment  of  the  court  shows  that  his  evidence  was  as  strong  as 
his  statement  was  plain.  It  seems  that  he  was  left,  at  his  father's 
death,  a  boy  of  seven  years  old,  with  a  sister  two  years  younger, 
and  a  fortune,  the  bulk  of  which  had  been  bequeathed  to  him, 
of  fourteen  talents,  which  properly  managed  would  have  in- 
creased, by  the  time  he  was  of  age,  to  thirty  (about  £7,250). 
Instead  of  this  opulent  estate,  (for  so  it  was  then.)  he  received 
from  his  guardians  only  a  house,  fourteen  slaves,  and  thirty 
mince.  (£120)  in  money.  This  was  the  beginning  of  his  mis- 
fortunes, and,  according  to  some  of  his  biographers,  of  his  great- 
ness. Facit  indignatio  versus.  To  be  revenged  on  these 
wicked  men,  they  suppose  him  to  have  devoted  himself  to  the 
study  of  eloquence — as  if  the  orator,  par  excellence,  ot  all  time, 
was  a  creature  of  accident  or  art,  or  as  if  any  body  can  be  elo- 
quent, after  the  manner  of  Demosthenes,  without  a  physical  or- 
ganization of  a  most  peculiar  kind.  But  it  deserves  to  be  men- 
tioned that,  if  Demosthenes  afterwards  wrote,  as  we  have  seen 
he  did,  many  speeches  for  money,  this  humiliating  necessity 
was  imposed  upon  one  born  for  better  things,  by  the  profligate 
mismanagement  of  others.  The  profession  of  a  feed  advocate, 
or  logograph,  at  Athens,  was  regarded  with  extreme  disfavor.* 
Demosthenes  himself  informs  us,  it  was  generally  admitted  that 
the  worst  class  in  the  community  were  those  who  wrote  and 
spoke  for  money.t  There  is  a  terrible  picture,  though  in  very 
exaggerated  colors,  in  the  oration  against  Aristogeiton,  of  the 
vast  influences,  as  well  as  of  the  detestable  practices,  of  the  ora- 
tors in  general,  but  especially  the  venal  sycophants — brokers  in 
iniquity,  as  they  are  called,  who  traffic  in  their  influence  with 
the  people,  and  live  on  the  terrors  of  the  rich.t 

The  speeches  against  Aphobus,  we  may  add  here,  stand  at  the 
head  of  those  composed  for  private  causes.  These  are  a  curious 
variety  of  the  Demosthenic  style,  and  strikingly  illustrate  its 
wonderful  versatility,  so  much  extolled  by  Cicero  and  Dionysius. 
It  is  equally  perfect,  that  is,  fit  and  appropriate,  on  all  subjects, 
from  the  highest  to  the  lowest.     There  was  no  imaginable  sort 

[*  Aristoph.  Plut.  30.] 

t  Cont.  Aristocrat.  §  36.  Cf.  Midiana,  §  52.  "He  will  call  me  orator,  to  make 
me  odious."     Timocrat.  §  17.     "Have  no  pity  for  him,  he  writes  for  pay." 

t  Aristogeit.  §§  9-11.  "The  dogs  of  Demus."  [Or  rather  keepers  of  the  Dog, 
Demus,  whom  they  starve  into  ferocity  and  let  slip  upon  their  enemies.  Aristoph. 
Vesp.  704.]     Passages,  these,  certainly  not  of  Demosthenes. 

vol.  i. — 60 


474  DEMOSTHENES, 

of  speaking  in  which  he  did  not  excel — observing  every  where 
the  cardinal  rule  of  Roscius,  which  that  great  actor  declared  it 
was  so  difficult  to  practise — Caput  est  artis  decere.  One  of  the 
false  ideas  which  writers  like  Blair,  and  even  Lord  Brougham, 
instil  into  the  minds  of  youth,  is  that  this  wonderful  artist  is  a 
sort  of  tragedy-hero  always  in  buskins  and  "sceptred  pall" — the 
r^w-aywvitfTTjg  of  oratory,  as  he  calls  JEschines — or,  worse  yet,  as  if 
he  were  always,  as  Bottom  says,  "playing  Ercles — or  a  part  to 
tear  a  cat  in — to  make  all  split."  Nothing  can  be  farther  from 
the  true  conception  of  a  style  of  which  the  peculiar  characteristic 
is  decorum,  as  nothing,  indeed,  could  be  more  insane  than  such 
uniform,  unremitting  vehemence.  There  is  one  class  of  these 
private  causes  which  are  reduced  to  some  single  point  or  excep- 
tion beside  the  merits,  and  take  the  tone  of  an  argument  in  our 
courts  on  a  demurrer  or  a  special  plea.  Think  of  Demosthenes 
the  special  pleader  !  But,  though  in  general  they  are  distinguish- 
ed by  any  thing  rather  than  the  ranting  vein  ascribed  to  their  au- 
thor, his  great  power  occasionally  displays  itself  in  no  equivocal 
manner.  Thus  the  first  speech  against  Stephanus  for  perjury  is 
admirable  throughout,  and  contains  some  tremendous  peals  of  de- 
nunciation.* So  the  speech  against  Olympiodorus  for  damages 
(gXagi??)  is  exceedingly  fine.  That  against  Polycles  is  full  of  in- 
structive matter  about  the  trierarchy,  sailors'  wages,  the  corn 
trade,  ate.  In  short,  these  arguments  embrace  a  great  variety  of 
questions  in  Attic  law,  and  are  well  worthy  the  attention  of  all 
who  are  curious  about  comparative  jurisprudence.  One  other 
remark,  altogether  characteristic  of  Demosthenes,  we  will  make 
in  reference  to  these  speeches,  and  that  is  that,  like  his  arguments 
in  matters  of  public  law,  they  are,  with  but  a  single  exception, 
every  one  of  them  for  the  plaintiff,  or  prosecutor.  These  causes 
were  all  restrained  within  certain  limits  as  to  time,  varying,  ap- 
parently, according  to  circumstances,  and  measured  by  a  propor- 
tional allowance  of  water  in  the  clepsydra.  It  is  no  uncommon 
thing  for  the  orator  to  say,  "I  have  a  good  deal  more  to  add,  but 
I  see  the  water  running  short,"  or  to  find  him  crying  out,  when 
he  called  for  the  reading  of  a  law  or  document  by  the  clerk,  (as 
was  the  usage,)  "stop  the  water."  The  first  maxim  of  Attic  taste 
in  all  things  is,  ne  quid  nimis,  (ovdsv  ayav) — when  shall  we  learn, 
in  this  most  long-winded  ot  all  countries,  to  imitate  at  least  the 
Atticism  of  brevity  ? 

The  second  of  the  causes  in  which  Demosthenes  appears  in 
proper  person,  according  to  Professor  Westermann's  arrangement, 
is  the  Lis  Midiana.  This  case,  of  which  we  have  already  said 
something,  is  very  illustrative,  both  of  the  state  of  manners  at 
Athens,  and  of  the  character  of  Demosthenes  himself.  It  grew 
out   of  the  cause  against   his  guardians,  in   which  Midias  inter- 

*  §  23,  cf.  §  10. 


THE  MAN,  THE  STATESMAN,  AND  THE  ORATOR.  475 

fered  to  protect  the  latter,  by  procuring  the  orator  to  be  charged 
with  an  oppressive  liturgy — and  when  he  declined  it  offering 
him,  according  to  the  Athenian  law,  an  exchange  of  fortunes,  by 
means  of  which  Aphobus  would  have  been  at  once  discharged 
from  all  farther  liability.  It  seems  that  in  offering  this  antido- 
sis,  (such  was  the  technical  term,)  the  conduct  of  Midias  was  ex- 
cessively brutal.*  From  this  source  flowed  a  most  malignant  and 
mischievous  personal  grudge  on  the  part  of  the  unprovoked  of- 
fender, against  the  youth  he  had  wronged :  and  many  years  af- 
ter, when  Demosthenes,  as  Choregus  of  his  tribe,  was  making 
preparations  for  an  exhibition  of  hischorus  at  one  of  the  great 
public  festivals,  this  ruffian  (one  of  the  principal  people  of 
Athens,)  committed  a  series  of  outrages,  ending  with  a  box  on 
the  ear,  inflicted  upon  the  young  orator  in  public.  The  people, 
indignant  at  such  brutality,  insisted  that  the  offender  should  be 
brought  to  condign  punishment,  and  accordingly  measures  were 
taken  to  effect  that  object.  Among  other  things  Demosthenes 
composed,  but  it  is  said  did  not  deliver,  his  celebrated  speech — 
having  compromised  his  suit  with  his  formidable  adversary  for 
thirty  minse  (£120).  Why  did  he  receive  this  hush-money? 
Plutarch  regards  it  as  a  proof  that,  although  he  was  at  that  time 
thirty-two  years  of  age,  and  had  delivered  one  at  least  of  his  har- 
angues in  the  assembly  of  the  people,  not  to  mention  the  four 
admirable  speeches  in  state  trials  already  adverted  to,  he.  had  as 
yet  too  little  political  influence  to  venture  upon  so  unequal  a  con- 
test. He  is  led  to  ascribe  the  compromise  to  some  such  motive, 
from  the  irascible  and  vindictive  (?)  character  of  Demosthenes. 
Be  that  as  it  may,  the  compounding  of  this  prosecution,  together 
with  a  similar  occurrence  between  him  and  one  of  his  relatives, 
was  matter  of  much  pungent  waggery.  iEschines'  sarcastic  re- 
mark, that  his  head  was  a  treasure  to  him,t  shows  at  least  the  ou- 
tfits of  the  day.  His  determination  to  drop  the  prosecution  was 
no  doubt  prompted,  in  some  degree,  by  an  indictment  for  deser- 
tion, and  another  for  murder,  which  Midias  immediately  got  up 
against  him,  and  of  which  we  hear  no  more  afterwards,  not  even 
from  his  worst  enemies. 

We  are  not  to  judge  of  such  an  outrage,  nor  of  the  conduct  of 
Demosthenes  under  it,  by  our  modern  standard.  Corneille's  Cid 
would  not  have  been  appreciated  at  Athens.  They  had  no  idea 
of  the  point  of  honor,  in  the  chivalrous  sense  of  the  word.  The 
individuality  of  the  person,  the  haughtiness  of  the  modern  moi, 
were  merged  in  implicit  obedience  to  the  law,  and  in  the  para- 
mount duty  of  the  citizen  as  a  member  of  a  community.     The 

*  §  22. 

t  More  literally,  a  "capital" — not  xspaXT],  but  xscpakaiov,  is  a  conjectural 
reading  approved  by  Bekker. 


476 

honor  of  the  Greek  was  a  fanatical  patriotism — lie  was  at  all 
times,  and  at  any  sacrifice  of  his  own  interests  or  feelings,  to 
obey  the  command,  to  promote  the  welfare  of  the  state.  The 
pride  of  the  citizen  was  the  humility  of  the  man.  It  was  this  ru- 
ling passion  which  Demosthenes,  as  we  have  seen,  knew  so  well 
how  to  move,  and  which  he  did  awaken  to  transports  long  un- 
felt,  by  his  Philippics  and  his  Speech  on  the  Crown.  But,  inde- 
pendently of  this  high  and  ruling  idea  of  Greek  life,  the  Atheni- 
ans were  a  people  steeped  in  profligacy  to  the  very  lips,  and 
wholly  without  shame  or  sensibility  on  subjects  of  honor.  This 
shocking  contrast,  between  the  exquisite  in  art,  the  polite  in  dic- 
tion, the  sublime  in  thought,  and  occasionally  the  great  and  he- 
roical  in  sentiment,  and  a  tone  of  manners  and  topics  of  discourse 
often  the  most  low,  vicious,  brutal  and  cynical,  is  one  of  the 
most  striking  peculiarities  of  the  ancient  Greek  world. 

This  speech  against  Midias  is  thus  doubly  curious,  as  exhibit- 
ing Demosthenes  to  us  in  a  situation  calculated  severely  to  try 
his  character,  and  as  throwing  light  upon  Athenian  opinion  on  a 
matter  of  so  much  importance  as  the  protection  of  the  person.  It 
appears,  from  a  law  cited  by  the  orators,  that  every  sort  of  vio- 
lence or  contumely  (u£gig)  was  rigidly  punished,  so  that  an  assault 
and  battery  was  a  high  crime :  even  slaves  were  protected,  by  a 
popular  action,  against  outrages  of  the  kind.  On  this,  as  on  other 
occasions,  the  court  is  addressed  as  if  the  degree  and  even  the 
nature  of  the  punishment  were  entirely  at  its  discretion.  The 
orator  seems  to  think  that  death  itself  would  not  be  too  much — 
but,  at  all  events,  he  demands  that  the  defendant  shall  be  render- 
ed harmless  by  the  forfeiture  of  the  whole  estate  which  at  once 
inspired  his  insolence  and  secured  its  impunity.  Not  to  extend 
these  remarks  unnecessarily,  we  will  only  add,  that  there  are  pas- 
sages of  great  beauty  and  power  in  this  speech  ;  as  for  example, 
the  noted  one  as  to  the  circumstances  that  aggravate  the  character 
of  an  assault,  (§  21,)  and  the  necessity  of  protecting,  in  his  person, 
the  security  of  all.  (§  59.)  His  argument,  on  the  application  of  pre- 
cedents cited  by  the  adversary,  or  by  himself,  is  extremely  dis- 
criminating and  powerful,  sufficiently  so,  we  should  think,  to 
come  up  fully  even  to  Lord  Brougham's  ideas  of  "close  and  sus- 
tained argumentation.'1  (§§  11.  17.  19.  48.) 

To  do  Demosthenes  complete  justice  in  this  distressing  affair, 
it  ought  to  be  mentioned,  that  it  was  not  an  action  for  damages, 
but  a  public  prosecution,  that  he  had  instituted — so  that  his 
object  was  simply  to  punish  the  offender,  and  not  to  profit  by  the 
offence. 

But  by  far  the  most  important  of  the  controversies  in  which 
he  appeared  himself,  were  the  memorable  ones  with  iEschines, 
after  Eubulus  and  Philocrates,  and  with  Phocion,  the  leader  of 


AND  THE  ORATOR.  477 

the  Macedonian  or  Peace  party,  his  mortal  enemy,  and  the  first 
orator  of  Greece,  with  the  single  exception  of  the  great  victor 
himself. 

It  is  a  remark  applicable  in  general  to  the  German  writers  of 
the  present  day,  and  particularly  so  to  M.  Westermann,  that 
they  treat  iEschines  just  as  Demosthenes  did  ;  that  is,  they  re- 
ceive implicitly  all  the  charges  made  against  him  by  the  latter. 
This  is  like  judging  Hannibal  by  the  Roman  accounts  of  him. 

We  confess,  for  our  part,  that  we  are  disposed,  in  this  contest, 
to  lean  a  good  deal  towards  iEschines,  just  as  in  Homer  we  in- 
voluntarily take  sides  with  Hector  against  Achilles.  He  has, 
for  a  Greek,  a  remarkably  well-bred  and  gentleman-like  tone,  a 
cairn  self-possession,  a  quiet  dignity,  a  nice  sense  of  moral  pro- 
priety, and  bating  some  rather  rhetorical  passages,  his  speaking 
is  perfectly  Attic.  His  oration  against  Timarchus  is  a  beautiful 
and  most  effective  speech.  Unfortunately  it  turns  principally  on 
so  revolting  a  subject,  and  reveals,  in  the  existing  state  of  morals 
at  Athens,  such  unutterable  abominations,  that  it  would  sully 
the  pages  of  a  modern  journal  to  do  more  than  allude  to  its  con- 
tents. Otherwise,  we  have  never  read  a  speech  in  a  foreign  lan- 
guage which  we  should  feel  more  tempted  to  translate.  It  is 
particularly  remarkable  for  a  sound  moral  tone,  and  for  a  certain 
delicacy  in  the  manner  of  dealing  with  such  horrors.  The  ora- 
tion in  his  own  defence,  when  charged  by  Demosthenes  with 
malversation  in  an  embassy  to  Philip,  is  also  an  admirable  mas- 
ter-piece;  and  his  third  and  most  celebrated,  though  unfortunate, 
effort  against  Ctesiphon,  would  probably  have  been  reckoned  the 
perfection  of  the  art,  had  not  Demosthenes  totally  eclipsed  him 
in  his  immortal  reply.  These  three  speeches  are  all  the  remains 
of  iEschines ;  for  although,  or  rather,  perhaps,  because  a  great 
extemporaneous  speaker,  he  published  little.  They  constitute 
what  is  called,  in  the  language  of  the  Greek  drama,  a  Trilogy — 
the  beginning,  the  middle,  and  the  end  of  his  mortal  combat 
with  his  more  popular  rival.  Antiquity  expressed  its  judgment 
upon  them  by  designating  them  as  the  Three  Graces.  The  ori- 
gin of  the  feud  was  the  first  embassy  to  Philip  to  treat  of  peace. 
Up  to  that  time  iEschines  seems  to  have  distinguished  himself 
as  much  by  his  opposition  to  the  king,  as  Demosthenes.  After 
his  return,  however,  from  that  mission,  he  changed  his  course, 
and  in  a  second  embassy  sent  to  conclude  a  definitive  treaty  with 
Macedon,  he  is  charged  with  having,  together  with  some  col- 
leagues equally  disaffected  or  corrupt,  purposely  delayed  the 
ratification  until  Philip  had  accomplished  his  projects  in  Phocis 
and  Thrace — projects  which  the  king  had  very  much  at  heart, 
since  these  were  the  two  most  vulnerable  points  of  Athens. 
iEschines  seems  to  have  contracted  for  Demosthenes  a  strong 
personal  aversion  during  the  first  mission,  and  nothing  can  be 


478 

more  graphic  and  humorous  than  his  account  of  the  behavior  of 
his  rival  in  their  journeys  as  well  as  at  Court.  On  their  return 
from  the  last,  Demosthenes  and  Timarchus,  in  concert,  were 
preparing  to  impeach  him  for  malversation  in  office,  when 
iEschines  turned  upon  one  of  his  adversaries,  and  striking  him 
down,  seems  for  the  time  to  have  silenced,  or  at  least  foiled  the 
other.  He  accused  Timarchus  of  infamous  conduct,  which, 
according  to  Attic  law,  deprived  him  of  the  right  of  speaking  in 
public.  lie  was  convicted,  and,  it  is  said,  committed  suicide  in 
despair.  Demosthenes  wrote,  as  did  iKschines,  a  long  and  la- 
bored speech,  to  be  spoken  in  the  impeachment  of  his  rival. 
Whether  they  were  delivered  or  not,  is  still  matter  of  dispute. 
Some  report  that  iEschines  was,  in  fact,  tried,  and  escaped  but 
by  thirty  voices — others  that,  owing  to  the  confusion  of  the  times, 
the  case  was  indefinitely  postponed.  M.  Westermann  suggests, 
rather  plausibly,  that  the  prosecution  was  never  even  instituted. 
The  argument,  which  he  considers  as  conclusive  upon  the  sub- 
ject, is  one  that  weighed  very  much  with  Piutarch,  namely,  that 
no  allusion  whatever  is  made  to  it  by  either  of  the  orators  in 
their  speeches  on  the  Crown.  But  this  fact  may  be  otherwise 
explained ;  and  Jerome  Wolf  well  remarks  that  by  the  same  ar- 
gument it  might  be  proved  that  the  oration  against  Timarchus 
had  never  been  delivered.  We  think  it  not  improbable,  how- 
ever, that  the  success  of  iEschines  in  the  prosecution  against 
this  man,  and  the  odium,  which  his  notorious  and  revolting  infa- 
my threw  upon  the  whole  cause,  shook  the  nerve  of  Demos- 
thenes, and  made  him  abandon  his  purpose.  If  this  was  so,  it  is 
a  remarkable  instance  of  the  pains  which  the  ancient  orators 
bestowed  upon  the  composition  of  their  harangues  on  great  occa- 
sions— unless,  indeed,  we  are  to  suppose  that  the  suppressed 
speeches  were  circulated  as  political  pamphlets.  That  of  JEs- 
chines  is  the  more  finished  production  of  the  two — his  rival's  is 
considered  as  a  mere  cartoon — but  it  is  a  cartoon  of  Demos- 
thenes. 

With  regard  to  the  merits  of  the  controversy,  the  impossibi- 
lity of  arriving  at  the  truth  must  be  apparent  to  any  one  who 
examines  the  state  of  the  evidence.  Contemporary  history  is 
perished  with  Theopompus  ;  and  what  we  find  in  later  writers, 
such  as  Plutarch,  is  manifestly  copied,  or  at  any  rate  more  or 
less  deeply  colored,  from  the  mutual  recriminations  of  the  ora- 
tors. It  follows  that  we  are,  after  all,  referred  to  the  speeches 
for  the  solution  of  the  difficulties  raised  by  the  speeches?  And 
what  do  we  find  in  these?  Palpable,  irreconcilable  contradic- 
tions, on  subjects  many  of  which  must  have  been  at  that  time 
matter  of  public  notoriety.  In  the  midst  of  a  small  society,  in 
reference  to  events  that  had  but  just  happened,  we  see  them  ap- 
pealing, with  equal  confidence,  to  the  testimony  of  the  first  men 


THE  MAN,  THE  STATESMAN,  AND  THE  ORATOR.  479 


in  the  state,  nay,  to  public  records,  affirming  and  denying,  with 
the  most  solemn  imprecations,  things  which,  one  should  suppose, 
the  whole  assembly  must  have  known  as  well  as  any  witness. 
Every  allegation  necessary  either  to  the  attack  or  the  defence  is 
clearly  stated,  and  apparently  made  out  by  the  most  irrefragable 
proofs ;  you  see  them,  with  all  the  gravity  in  the  world,  bid  the 
clerk  read  the  document,  the  record,  the  testimony  needed.  Poor 
Wolf  (Jerome)  is  so  much  annoyed  and  scandalized  by  this  con- 
flict of  asseverations,  that  he  inveighs  continually  in  his  annota- 
tions against  the  perfidious  art  of  the  orators.  In  one  of  them 
he  quotes  Lactantius  to  the  same  purpose,  and  heartily  joins  in 
the  repentance  expressed  by  the  Christian  Cicero,  for  having 
done  any  thing  to  promote  this  science  of  falsehood  and  impos- 
ture*— to  say  nothing  of  that  anthology  of  vituperation,  as  it  has 
been  well  expressed,  which  might  be  easily  culled  from  these 
speeches — especially  those  of  Demosthenes — bidding  defiance  to 
Billingsgate  at  its  worst.  M.  Westermann  assumes  that  this 
orator  is  more  to  be  relied  on  than  his  adversary,  and  this  he 
assumes  because  he  assumes,  again,  that  he  was  the  better  man, 
as  he  undoubtedly  displayed  more  statesmanship,  as  well  as  pa- 
triotic devotedness,  in  his  opposition  to  Philip.  But  this  argu- 
ment is  by  no  means  conclusive.  It  proves  too  much.  It  ap- 
plies as  strongly  to  Phocion,  who  voted  with  iEschines  through- 
out, and  who  is  universally  admitted  to  have  been  the  most 
upright  man  of  the  time,  and  worthy  to  be  associated  with  Aris- 
tides.  There  is  one  consideration  of  very  great  weight  in  favor 
of  iEschines.  The  war  party  was  at  that  time  decidedly  the 
strongest  at  Athens  ;  why  did  not  the  impeachment  succeed  ? 

As  to  what  M.  Westermann  (pp.  48-50)  considers  as  a  con- 
fession of  the  defendant  himself,  it  is  absurd  to  separate,  as  he 
attempts  to  do,  the  fact  from  the  intention.  iEschines  admits 
that  on  his  return  he  made  some  such  representations  as  had  been 
imputed  to  him ;  but  he  resists  the  inference  attempted  to  be 
drawn  from  them  that  he  had  betrayed  his  country.  Far  from 
denying,  he  boldly  avows  and  most  eloquently  defends  his  policy 
in  promoting  the  peace. t  He  draws  a  frightful  picture  of  the 
calamitous  consequences  of  the  war,  the  waste  of  treasure  and 
the  dilapidation  of  the  finances,  the  loss  of  no  less  than  seventy- 
five  towns,  restored  to  the  confederacy  by  Conon,  and  of  a  hun- 
dred and  fifty  ships  of  war,  the  resources  of  the  state  lavished 
only  on  the  refuse  of  all  Greece,  the  corrupt  brawlers  in  the 
public  assemblies,  and  their  worthless  dependants,  until  the  city 
was  reduced  to  the  condition  of  a  mere  den  of  pirates,  while  her 
mercenary  generals,  instead  of  arresting  the  progress  of  Philip, 
becoming  daily  more  formidable,   were  not  even  to  be  found  on 

*  Ad.  TEsch.  de  fals.  Legat-  §  3. 
t  De  fals.  Legat.  §  24. 


480  DEMOSTHENES, 

the  theatre  of  war,  but  prosecuted  elsewhere,  without  authority, 
enterprises  of  their  own  against  the  allies  of  the  republic.  In 
answer  to  the  appeals  to  the  conduct  of  their  ancestors,  in  the 
Persian  war,  he  reminds  them  of  the  effects  of  the  invasion  of 
Sicily,  and  of  the  terrible  fruits  of  their  obstinacy  in  persisting 
in  the  struggle  with  Sparta,  when  they  might  have  put  an  end 
to  it  on  moderate  terms — the  destruction  of  their  walls,  the  over- 
throw of  the  democracy,  the  despotism  of  the  thirty  tyrants,  and 
the  execution  of  fifteen  hundred  citizens  without  a  trial.  It 
seems  to  us  very  conceivable,  considering  the  situation  of  Greece 
at  that  time,  (of  which  we  shall  presently  say  more,)  that  iEs- 
chines  might  have  been  governed  by  such  views,  and  honestly 
advised  peace,  and  all  the  measures  which  subsequently  led  to 
the  ruin  of  his  country.  That  he  had  been  captivated  by  the 
plausible  professions  and  amiable  manners  of  Philip,  during  his 
first  embassy,  is  very  evident ;  why  should  he  not  have  been 
his  dupe?  M.  Westermann  seems  to  think  he  had  deliberately 
conspired  with  that  prince  to  overthrow  the  liberty  of  Greece. 
Does  he  suppose  so  crafty  a  politician  as  Philip  let  an  Athenian, 
an  orator,  a  babbler  by  profession,  into  the  secrets  of  his  ambi- 
tion ?  The  only  argument  of  any  force  against  this  view  of  the 
matter,  is  that  pressed  by  Demosthenes  in  his  speech  on  the 
Embassy.  "Had  he  not  sold  himself,  I  should  expect  to  hear 
him  say  something  to  this  effect :  'Men  of  Athens,  do  with  me 
as  you  please  ;  I  believed,  I  was  imposed  upon,  I  have  erred,  I 
confess.  But  be  on  your  guard,  Athenians,  against  that  man  ; 
he  is  faithless,  perfidious,  wicked — do  ye  not  see  how  he  has 
used  me,  how  grossly  he  has  deceived  me  V  But  I  hear  nothing 
of  the  kind  from  him,  nor  you  neither.  Why  ?  Because  he 
spoke  under  no  error,  or  delusion,  but  for  the  wages  of  his 
treachery,  acting  the  part  of  a  good  and  faithful  mercenary,  but 
of  a  traitor  ambassador  and  citizen,  and  deserving  to  die  for  it, 
not  once,  but  three  times  over."*  This  is  specious,  yet  a  political 
party  has  seldom  been  known  to  change  its  ground  on  a  disco- 
very of  its  error,  and  still  more  rarely  to  confess  its  shame  when 
it  has  been  disgracefully  duped.  The  Whigs,  under  the  lead  of 
Mr.  Fox  in  1793  and  in  1803,  were  in  precisely  the  same  pre- 
dicament in  regard  to  the  French  Revolution,  as  that  in  which 
iEschines  stood  in  relation  to  Philip — and  they  were  as  far  as 
he  from  making  any  confession  or  retraction. 

After  the  failure  of  this  attempt  upon  the  head  of  the  peace 
party,  we  hear  no  more  of  conflicts  between  the  great  rivals 
until  the  last  and  decisive  one.  So  far  iEschines  had  been  com 
pletely  triumphant  in  defending  himself.  He  had  destroyed 
Timarchus,  and  driven  back  his  great  colleague  himself,  foiled 
and  discomfited.  But  he  had  not  supplanted  this  latter  in  the 
*  De  fals.  Leeat.  §  109. 


The  man,  the  statesman,  and  the  orator.   4SI 

affections  of  the  people.    Very  far  from  it.    Events  had  occurred 
since  that  contest  which  had  given  to  Demosthenes  all  the  credit 
of  sagacity  and  patriotism.     Philip,  taking  advantage  of  a  second 
Holy  War,  set  on  foot  by  iEschines,   (though  it  is  very  possible 
the  latter  might  have  been  actuated  by  motives  which,  at  any 
former  period,  would  undoubtedly  have  led  the  Amphictyons  to 
adopt  the  same  measures,)   pounced  suddenly  upon  Elatea,  and 
revealed,  even  to  the  blindest,  his  ulterior  projects  against  Greece. 
Demosthenes,  as  we  have  seen,  nothing  daunted  by  this  sudden 
and  imminent  peril,  roused  up  Thebes  to  an  alliance  with  Athens 
against  him,  and  the  fatal  battle  of  Cheronea  fulfilled  the  worst 
forebodings  of  the  patriot  orator.     His  country  was  fallen  for 
ever  from  her  political  pre-eminence,  but  Philip  was  excessively 
ambitious  of  her  praises.     "Grecian,   too,   with   all  his  vices." 
He  wanted   her  for  his  theatre,  and  her  wits  and  artists  for  his 
spectators,  in  the  great  part  which  he  fully  intended  to  perform, 
of  Conqueror  of  Persia.     He  left  her  nominally  an  independent 
democracy.     She  still  retained  her  darling  Mtfjjtfft*.     The  orators 
might  still  speak — of  the  past — and  the  last  appearance  of  De- 
mosthenes was  on  the  occasion  on  which  we  have  already  dwelt, 
of  Ctesiphon's  motion  to  reward  him  with  a  crown.     He  comes 
forward  now  no  longer  as  a  counsellor,  but  as  a  historian,  to 
justify  his   whole  political  course.     It  is  the  grandest  piece  of 
egotism  on  record — Milton's,  perhaps,  excepted.     Yet  is  the  sub- 
ject so  dexterously,  or  rather,   we  should  say,  so  simply,  so  sin- 
cerely, so  sublimely  managed,  that  you  forget  the  orator  in  the 
statesman,  the  statesman  in  the  patriot,  the  patriot  in  his  country, 
which   seems  to  have  engrossed,  penetrated,   transformed  and 
elevated  his  whole  being. 

Surely  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  this  defence  was  trium- 
phant. It  was  impossible  it  should  fail  were  the  laws  ever  so 
express  against  the  honor  proposed — were  the  calamities  brought 
upon  Greece  by  resistance  to  the  conqueror  worse  even  than  they 
were  represented  to  be  by  the  adversaries  of  the  orator.  The 
democracy,  except  the  name,  was  gone,  but  it  had  died  on  the 
bed  of  glory.  The  achievements,  which  Herodotus  records  in  a 
simple  tale  of  wonder,  were  not  more  worthy  to  be  had  in  honor 
among  men,  were  in  nothing  but  in  good  fortune  and  in  military 
skill  superior  to  the  last  struggle  to  emulate  them.  But  it  was 
all  over  with  popular  government — Alexander  had  trodden  out 
the  first  sparks  of  insurrection  in  Greece — he  had  effaced  the 
antique  and  myth-honored  Thebes  from  the  map — he  had  de- 
manded of  the  Athenians  that  their  orators,  and  especially  their 
great  orator,  should  be  delivered  up  to  him  to  be  put  to  death. 
He  was  pacified  by  Demades  and  did  not  press  this  demand. 
But  the  proscription  of  a  patriot  is  his  apotheosis  in  the  eyes  of 
those  for  whom  he  suffers,  and  whatever  influence  may  be  as- 
vol.  i. — 61 


482  OEMOSTHENES, 

cribed  to  his  matchless  genius  and  eloquence — matchless  then 
and  for  ever — it  is  certain  that  through  all  his  subsequent  life — 
even  when,  under  duress,  they  voted  his  banishment,  nay,  when 
they  afterwards  voted  his  death — he  was  without  a  rival  in  the 
affections  of  the  people  of  Athens.  It  was  impossible,  therefore, 
that  iEschines  should  have  triumphed,  had  he  even  made,  as  he 
did,  on  the  subject  of  the  embassy,  a  better  speech  than  his  rival, 
instead  of  being,  as  he  was,  hopelessly  eclipsed.  The  Macedo- 
nian influence  on  which  he  is  supposed,  and  with  good  reason,  to 
have  counted,  was  not  strong  enough  at  the  moment  to  have  any 
effect  on  the  issue  of  such  a  discussion.  It  served,  on  the  contrary, 
to  render  him  more  odious — he  was  identified,  like  the  Bourbons, 
with  the  conquest  of  his  country  and  hatred  for  the  foreigner. 
The  relative  positions  of  the  orators  with  regard  to  the  audience 
reversed  their  nominal  parts.  The  prosecutor  is  plainly  on  the 
defensive  throughout — the  accused  attacks  with  ferocity.  The 
cause  had  been  pending,  according  to  the  common  account,  eight 
years.  M.  Westermann  thinks  he  has  proved  that  the  delay 
was  only  half  that  time.  The  difference  is  unimportant  for  any 
practical  purpose.  This  solemn  note  of  preparation,  the  reputa- 
tion of  the  speakers,  their  inveterate  hostility  personal  and  politi- 
cal, the  memory  of  their  former  contests  and  of  the  tragical  end 
of  Timarchus,  the  fact  that  one  of  the  champions  was  backed 
by  the  Macedonian  interest,  while  the  other  was  cheered  by  the 
sympathy  of  a  people  as  true  to  him  in  defeat  and  disaster  as 
they  had  been  in  the  day  of  triumph,  the  renowned  democracy 
of  two  hundred  years  lilting  up,  for  the  last  time,  its  spirit-stirring 
voice  in  the  midst  of  a  world  doomed  to  hear  it  no  more ;  the 
past,  the  present,  the  dark  and  hopeless  future — every  thing  con- 
spired to  give  to  this  immortal  contest  a  character  and  an  interest 
altogether' unique  in  the  history  of  the  human  mind. 

The  eloquence  of  iEschines  is  of  a  brilliant  and  showy  char- 
acter, running  occasionally,  as  we  have  said,  though  very  rarely, 
into  a  Ciceronian  declamation.  In  general,  however,  his  taste 
is  unexceptionable — clear  in  statement,  close  and  cogent  in  argu- 
ment, lucid  in  arrangement,  remarkably  graphic  and  animated 
in  style,  and  full  of  spirit  and  pleasantry,  without  the  least  ap- 
pearance of  emphasis  or  effort.  He  is  particularly  successful  in 
description  and  the  portraiture  of  character.  We  have  spoken 
of  the  ridiculous  light  in  which  he  places  the  behavior  of  Demos- 
thenes on  the  first  embassy,  and  the  miserable  failure  of  the 
great  orator  in  his  attempt  to  address  Philip.  His  delivery  seems 
to  have  been  fine,  though,  perhaps,  somewhat  theatrical.  De- 
mosthenes alludes  repeatedly  to  his  musical  and  powerful  voice, 
in  comparison   with  his  own  rather  feeble  one,*  as  he  contrasts 

*  De  fals.  Legat.  §  61.  (pdsyys<Jdat  psyig-ng. 


THE  MAN,  THE  STATESMAN,  AND  THE  ORATOR.     483 

his  boldness  and  composure  in  speaking,  with  his  own  nervous- 
ness and  timidity.*  His  well  known  ridicule  of  some  of  the  strong 
phrases  in  which  the  passion  of  Demosthenes  sometimes  (we 
must  suppose  extemporaneously)  vented  itself,f  shows  him  to 
have  been  a  very  Athenian  for  fastidiousness  of  taste.  The  re- 
ply of  the  great  orator  to  this  criticism  is  characteristic  both  of 
the  man  and  the  speaker — who  are,  indeed,  inseparable — that  to 
be  sure,  it  signified  a  great  deal  to  the  welfare  of  the  Greeks 
whether  he  used  one  phrase  rather  than  another,  or  stretched  out 
his  arm  thus  or  thus.  His  high  opinion  of  his  rival,  however, 
is  sufficiently  betrayed  by  his  frequent  admonitions  to  the  assem- 
bly to  remember  that  their  debates  are  no  theatrical  exhibitions 
of  voice  and  oratory,  but  deliberations  involving  the  safety  of 
their  country.  His  bitterest  scoffs,  too,  against  iEschines,  have 
reference  to  his  former  profession  of  an  actor,  in  which  he  gene- 
rally had  the  "tyrant's  part."!  (r^rayuvig-ris.)  He  tells  them  it  is 
very  strange  that  the  same  audience  that  had  hissed  and  almost 
stoned  him,  when  he  attempted  to  play  Thyestes,  so  that  he 
abandoned  the  stage  in  despair,  should  listen  to  him  with  so 
much  complaisance  when  he  took  it  upon  him  to  counsel  them 
about  the  gravest  matters. §  If  you  were  choosing  a  crier,  it 
would  be  of  some  importance  to  know  what  sort  of  a  voice  he 
had,  but  what  does  it  signify  in  a  statesman,  and  what  eloquence 
or  ability  can  recommend  so  bad  a  man  '/  In  his  speech  on  the 
Crown  his  invective  is  nothing  less  than  gigantic — he  throws 
whole  heaps  of  ribaldry  and  vituperation  upon  his  adversary 
with  "jaculation  dire" — and  if  iEschines  occasionally,  though 
certainly  not  to  the  same  extent,  uses  the  same  weapon,  he  may 
plead  a  provocation  sufficient  to  excuse,  or  even  to  justify  any 
retaliation.  His  piquant  and  graceful  satire,  however,  is  too 
light  for  such  warfare. 

What  did  the  eloquence  of  iEschines  want  to  make  it  perfect  ? 
That  which  distinguishes  the  eloquence  of  Demosthenes,  above 
all  others,  ancient  or  modern. — earnestness,  conviction,  the  power 
to  persuade  that  belongs  to  a  strong  and  deep  persuasion  felt  by 
the  speaker.  The  old  question  so  much  discussed  among  the 
rhetoricians,  whether  a  great  orator  (we  do  not  say  speaker, 
merely)  must  be  a  good  man,  must  undoubtedly  be  answered 
sub  modo  in  the  affirmative.  He  must  be  honest,  at  least  quoad 
hoc.  He  must  believe  in  the  cause  he  pleads.  Milton,  in  a  pas- 
sage, part  of  which  has  been  cited  above,  says,  "true  eloquence  I 
find  to  be  none  but  the  serious  and   hearty  love  of  truth" — or 

*  Ibid.  I  who  am  before  great  multitudes  as  you  say  dsiXog,  as  I  say 
sv\a/3r)g.  cf.  lb.  §  64. 

f  Dionys.  Halicarn.  it.  r.  X.  A.  5sivotyjtos  says  it  is  a  false  charge. 
t  De  fals.  Legat.  69.  71.    Creon  JEschines,  etc. 
§  lb.  §§  95.  96. 


4S4  DEMOSTHENES,. 

more  properly,  what  the  speaker  believes  to  be  the  truth.  This 
sentence  ought  to  be  engraved  on  the  mind  of  every  young  aspi- 
rant. It  is  the  great  cardinal  principle  of  all  sound  rhetoric,  and 
is  worth  more  than  all  Q,uintilian's  twelve  books  put  together. 
Faith,  hope,  love — the  three  Christian  graces— are  indispensable 
to  excellence  in  any  art — but  of  all  arts,  in  oratory  most.  It  is 
given  to  no  man,  be  his  genius  or  accomplishments  what  they 
may,  to  sway,  with  a  real  empire,  great  masses,  with  any  other 
voice  than  that  of  faith,  animated  by  hope,  but  above  all,  in- 
flamed with  zeal  in  his  cause,  and  with  "dearest  charity,"  to  im- 
press his  convictions  on  others.  Do  you  expect  to  be  eloquent? 
Say  nothing  you  do  not  believe — the  voice  never  lies — the 
slightest  tone  of  nature  will  pierce  and  penetrate  ten  thousand 
bosoms  as  if  with  an  electrical  spark,  but  the  least  falseness  or 
coldness,  and  still  worse,  affectation,  there,  is  fatal.  It  is  for  this 
reason  that  the  weak  things  of  this  world  so  often  confound  the 
wise,  in  this  kind.  It  is  a  maxim  in  the  Church,  that  no  here- 
siarch  has  ever  done  much  unless  his  temper  was  vehement. 
Fanaticism  is  always  more  or  less  eloquent,  hypocrisy  never — 
truly  eloquent,  we  mean,  not  disertns,  for,  we  repeat,  eloquence 
is  quite  a  different  thing  from  good,  and  even  from  the  best 
speaking.  Many  men  have  worked  miracles  by  eloquence,  who 
could  scarcely  have  been,  in  any  proper  sense  of  the  words,  tol- 
erable speakers,  Peter  the  Hermit  for  instance.  But  they  had 
that,  without  which  the  most  exquisite  use  of  language  is  with- 
out soul,  without  power.  Was  Mirabeau  in  earnest  in  his  pur- 
poses? Of  destruction  down  to  a  certain  point,  most  certainly — 
not  beyond  that,  and  there  he  would  have  perished,  like  so  many 
other  half-way  men.  He  had  sworn  hostility  to  existing  insti- 
tutions in  bastiles  and  dungeons — he  had  given  pledges  to  revo- 
lution by  a  life  stained  by  every  turpitude  that  could  blot  out 
the  escutcheon  of  a  gentleman  born.  The  outcast  Riquetti 
could  not  but  be  sincere  in  making  war  upon  Montmorenci  and 
Chatillon.  He  felt,  it  is  true,  (as  who  of  them  all  did  not  in  his 
own  case?)  the  fancied  superiority  of  his  birth,  and  thought 
himself,  as  in  fact  he  then  was,  all  the  better  tribune  for  being 
descended,  like  Clodius  and  the  Gracchi,  from  an  ancient  and 
illustrious  line.  But  what  did  that  descent  signify  to  him,  as 
long  as  he  was  debarred  the  privileges  it  ought  to  have  confer- 
red ?  The  day  was  coming — was  come — when  he  would  have 
stopped  short  in  his  revolutionary  career,  and  tried,  for  his  wages, 
to  stop  others — but  there  he  would  have  failed,  and  another 
Mirabeau — fruit  of  the  arriere  saison  of  full-blown  monocracy — 
the  terrible  Danton.  would  have  had  his  head  in  the  excutioner's 
basket,  (if  indeed  it  had  escaped  the  butcher's  knife  of  the  Sep- 
tembriseur,)  long  before  the  end  of  '93. 

There  is  another  man  of  that  day,  famous  to  all  time,  to  whose 


THE  MAN.  THE  STATESMAN,  AND  THE  ORATOR.     485 

ability  in  this  respect  justice  has  not  been  done.  Robespierre  is 
said  to  have  attracted  Mirabeau's  attention  in  the  Constituent 
Assembly,  although  then  only  one  of  the  "thirty  voices"  whom 
he  treated,  as  events  proved,  with  an  ignorant  disdain.  That 
man,  however,  he  saw  and  said  would  go  far — because  he  had 
a  conviction.  He  was  right,  as  we  know  by  the  fact— he  was 
sagacious  in  the  ground  of  his  conjecture.  Robespierre  ivas  in 
earnest.  He  believed.  Rousseau  had  in  him  as  fanatical  a  fol- 
lower as  the  Old  Man  of  the  Mountain  ever  sent  forth  to  do  a 
deed  of  blood.  That,  like  Cromwell  and  other  celebrated  knaves, 
he  turned  imposter  at  last,  is  quite  likely — it  is  the  natural  course 
of  things.  But  he  achieved  his  horrible  greatness  by  faith. 
Beaux  esprits  and  people  of  wit  and  leisure  about  town,  at  first, 
voted  him  a  bore — a  pedantic  and  tiresome  rhetorician — but 
there  was  an  audience  out  of  doors  who  listened  to  every  sylla- 
ble he  uttered,  and  "understood  a  fury  in  the  words,  if  not  the 
words."  Both  he  and  Danton  were,  in  the  proper  sense  of  the 
word,  far  more  eloquent  than  the  hypocritical  declaimers  of  the 
CHronde,  who,  beginning  with  a  vast  majority  both  in  the  Con- 
vention and ;  in  the  Departments,  were  overthrown  in  a  few 
months,  and  perished  like  felons  upon  the  scaffold,  The  ear- 
nestness, the  zeal,  the  decided  and  fanatical  nationality  of  the 
Jacobin  leaders,  stirred  up  the  people  like  the  Marseillaise. 
Never  was  there  such  an  example  of  the  utter  inefficiency  of  a 
mere  talent  for  speaking,  without  any  fixed,  resolute,  practical 
purpose,  as  is  to  be  found  in  the  famous  struggle  in  question,  be- 
tween the  Titans  of  democracy,  "earth  born  that  warred  on 
Jove,"  and  their  nondescript  adversaries. 

The  same  advantage  Demosthenes  had  over  iEschines.  He 
had  faith  in  his  country,  faith  in  her  people,  (if  they  could  be 
roused  up,)  faith  in  her  institutions.*  He  thought  and  spoke  of 
Philip  for  a  long  time  as  Nelson  spoke  of  Bonaparte  and  a  French 
invasion.  Had  he  been  as  good  a  soldier  as  Phocion,  he  had 
acted  out  successfully  what  he  felt.  He  is  mad  at  the  bare 
thought  that  a  man  of  Macedon,  a  barbarian,  should  be  beating 
Athenians  in  the  field,  and  giving  laws  to  Greece.  To  Lacedae- 
mon,  to  Thebes  under  her  Epaminondas,  he  might  have  con- 
sented to  yield  the  supremacy  ;  but  that  a  king-  of  a  house  whom 
they  had  but  lately  treated  as  their  proteges  and  dependants,  of 
a  country  whence,  as  he  expresses  it,  they  could  not  even  get  a 
slave  good  enough  for  their  service,  should  aspire  to  be  their 
master  !  Philip's  astonishing  successes  had  proved  him  to  be  a 
formidable  enemy  ;  but  the  orations  of  Demosthenes  breathe  all 
the  confidence  he  felt  that  there  was  no  real  danger  but  in  the 

*  There  is  a  remarkable  passage  in  one  of  his  speeches,  in  which  he  says  that 
democracy  is  not  a  good  thing  in  theory,  but  it  had  always  worked  well  in  prac- 
tice, at  Athens.    Cont.  Leptin.  §  23. 


486  DEMOSTHENES, 

supineness  of  the  people,  the  distraction  of  their  counsels,  the  li- 
centious conduct  of  their  mercenary  troops,  and  the  bad  faith  or 
incapacity  of  their  generals.  iEschines,  on  the  contrary,  was 
become  sceptical  and  irresolute.  He  saw  less  clearly,  it  is  pro- 
bable, the  designs  of  Philip,  and  more  clearly  the  inadequacy  of 
the  means  of  resistance.  He  is  charged  by  Demosthenes  with 
giving  himself  airs,  and  treating  with  contempt  the  low  people. 
He  saw  how  little  chance  democracy  had  of  continuing,  in  any 
vigorous,  constitutional  form,  an  existence  threatened  by  so  many 
enemies,  from  without  and  from  within.  We  have  seen  that  the 
greatest  man  (in  action)  of  that  day,  Phocion,  thought  with  him. 
Many  German  writers  consider  the  conduct  of  the  latter  as  a  per- 
plexing moral  problem.  But  surely  the  scenes  revealed  in  their 
own  historical  sketches,  sufficiently  establish  the  truth  that  the 
cause  of  republican  government  in  Greece  was  completely  despe- 
rate, and  that  she  was  only  waiting  for  a  master  to  pick  up  the 
crown  that  lay  ready  for  him  on  the  ground.  The  great  curse 
of  misrule  in  the  popular  form  had  produced  its  usual  effect  of 
destroying,  except  in  a  few  heroical  or  fanatical  minds,  as  the 
case  might  be,  all  faith  in  it,  and  driving  them  to  seek  quiet  and 
security  under  a  king.  That  this  was  in  fact  the  state  of  opin- 
ion on  that  subject,  we  have  the  most  conclusive  evidence  to 
show.  Not  to  mention  the  writings  of  the  philosophers,  on 
which  we  had  occasion  to  dwell  more  at  large  in  a  recent  num- 
ber of  this  journal,*  what  more  striking  example  could  be  pro- 
duced than  that  of  Isocrates — who  would  not  consent  to  survive 
the  disaster  at  Cheronea,  and  whom  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus 
pronounces  the  best  teacher  of  political  wisdom  and  virtue  ?t 

Not  very  long  before  the  great  catastrophe,  the  veteran  rhetor- 
ician addressed  a  discourse  to  Philip  which  is  a  most  precious 
monument  of  those  times.  Disgusted  at  the  scenes  of  violence, 
anarchy,  and  blood,  in  the  midst  of  which,  almost  without  any 
intermission,  his  long  life  of  a  century  had  been  passed,  he  recom- 
mends, as  the  only  remedy  for  the  evil,  that  Greece  shall  be  uni- 
ted by  a  common  war,  and  should  direct  against  the  foreigner, 
the  cupidity,  rapacity  and  profligate  contempt  of  law  and  author- 
ity, that  were  now  tearing  her  own  bowels.  Philip  was,  in  his 
opinion,  the  man  to  do  this,  and  the  conquest  of  Persia,  the  means. 
This  discourse,  among  other  things*  shows  very  clearly,  that  the 
policy  of  Demosthenes,  who  was  designated  in  a  manner  not  to 
be  mistaken,  was  reprobated  not  only  by  Phocion  and  jEschines, 
and  their  political  party,  but  by  men  who  stood  aloof  from  all  pol- 
itics and  all  party.  We  can  imagine,  however,  no  greater  com- 
pliment to  his  sagacity  than  this  "censure,  founded,  as  it  is,  on 
the  presumed  friendly  and  pacific  purposes  of  Philip.  Though, 
to  do  full  justice  to  that  extraordinary  man,  we  must  confess, 

*  New  York  Review,  No.  xiii.  t  Judie.  de  Isocrat.  §  4. 


THE  MAN,  THE  STATESMAN,  AND  THE  ORATOR.  487 

his  whole  ambition  appears  to  us  to  have  been  to  make  himself 
another   Agamemnon,  conquering  at  the  head  of  united  Greece 
— just  as  his  government  in  Macedon  seems  to  have  been  a  mon- 
archy after  the  old  patriarchal  and  Homeric  fashion.     Isocrates 
tells  him*  he  perceives  that  he  (the  king)  is  traduced  by  certain 
envious  people,   accustomed  to  fish  in   troubled  waters,   and  to 
look  upon  the  common  peace  of  Greece  as  a  great  personal   ca- 
lamity for  them;  who,  neglecting  every  thing  else,  can   speak  of 
nothing  but  his  power,  as  if  it  was  growing  to  its  present  height, 
not  for  the  benefit,  but  for  the  ruin  of  Greece,  and  as  if  the  king 
had  been  for  some  time  past  plotting  against  them,  and  only  pro- 
fessed  to  mean,  when  he  should  settle  matters  at  Phocis,  to  as- 
sist the  Messenians,  while  he,  in  fact,  meditated  the  conquest  of 
the   Peloponnesus. — They   alleged,  it  seems,    that  already   the 
Thessalians  and  Thebans,  and  all  the  Amphictyonic  states,  were 
ready  to  follow  him  ;  the  Argives,  the  Messenians,  the  Megalopo- 
litans,  and  many  others  were  prepared  to  make  war  upon  and  to 
overthrow  the  Lacedaemonians — that  should  he   effect   this   he 
would  easily  subdue  the  rest  of  the  Greeks — that  they  who  held 
this  idle  language  had  succeeded  by  their  sophistry  in  persuading 
many,  and  especially  all  such  as  desired  the  same  social  disorders 
as  the  authors  of  the  reports  referred  to.  as  well  as  those  who 
looked  but  little  into  public  affairs  and  were  thankful  to  any  who 
pretended  to  feel  so  much  concern  and  apprehension  for  them, 
and  especially  those  who  do  not  dislike  the  idea  of  his  plotting 
against  the  Greeks,  but  look  upon  such  designs  on  his  part  as 
rather  a  desirable  thing.     But  these  people,  he  continues,  do  not 
know,  that  by  an  indiscriminate  use  of  the  very  same  language, 
they  injure  some  persons  and  honor  others.     Were  any  one  to 
say,  for  instance,  that  the  King  of  Persia  was  plotting  against  the 
Greeks  and  preparing  for  a  hostile  expedition,  they  would  say 
nothing  to  his  disadvantage,  but  rather  make  him  out  to  be  more 
valiant  and  more  worthy  than  he  is.    But,  if  the  same  imputation 
were  made  against  one  descended  of  Hercules,  who  had  been  the 
benefactor  of  all  Greece,  it  would  be  fixing  a  very  serious  re- 
proach upon  him.     For   who  would  not  be  justly  indignant  at 
his  appearing  to  plot  against  those,  in  defence  of  whom  his  an- 
cestor voluntarily  encountered  so  many  dangers,  and,  instead  of 
endeavoring  to  keep  up  the  good  name  and  hereditary  popularity 
of  his  house,  should,  on  the  contrary,  meditate  the  most  reprehen- 
sible and  unwarrantable  things.     With  such  impressions,  says  he 
to  Philip,  you  must  not  despise  the  calumnies,  with  which  your 
personal  enemies  are  seeking  to  charge  you,  and  which  all  your 
friends  feel  bound  to  repel,  etc. 

A  short  time  after  Isocrates  published  this  guileless  expression 
of  confidence,  or  this  lesson  in  disguise  to  Philip,  the  victory  at 
*  Ad  Philip.  §31. 


49$ 

Cheronea  showed  him  how  little  he  knew  his  man,  and  hilly  vin- 
dicated Demosthenes  from  the  charge  of  calumniating  that  inno- 
cent prince.     This  was  the  peculiar  boast  of  the  great  statesman 
and  orator.      From  the  moment   Philip,  by  his  projects  upon  so 
important  a  city  as  Olynthus,  revealed  a  systematic  and  far-reach- 
ing ambition,  Demosthenes  saw  at  once  that  a  new    power  had 
arisen,  that  a  new  Hegemony  would    be  aimed  at,  that  another 
Leuctra  would  have  to  be  fought  with  a  nation  not  hitherto  coun- 
ted for  any  thing  in  the  politics  of  Greece.     While  others  were  still 
thinking  of  their  old  enemy,  the  great  king,  by  whose  aid  Conon, 
her  second  Themistocles,  had  restored  to  Athens  her  walls,  her 
fleets,  and  her  maritime  ascendant ;  and  by  whose  aid  again  Spar- 
ta had  undone  the  work  of  Conon  and  sacrificed  the  interests,  the 
independence,  and  the  glory  of  Greece,  by  the  disgraceful  peace 
of  Antaicidas,  Demosthenes  saw  that  Persia  was  among  the  things 
that  had   been,  and  that  the  real  enemy  was  one    much  nearer 
home  and  never  heard  of  before.     He  accordingly,  as  Isocrates 
says,  spoke  of  nothing  but  Philip.     It  became  a  sort  of  monoma- 
nia with  him  ;  but  when, after  the  lapse  of  many  years,  his  predic- 
tions had  been  fulfilled,  all  who  mourned  over  the  fate  of  repub- 
lican Greece — bright  and  beautiful  as,  with  all  her  faults,  she  had 
been  in  their  eyes — did  him,  as  we  have  said,  an  homage  which 
nothing  could  ever  diminish.     He    was  accused  of  having  be- 
haved in  a  cowardly  manner  at  Cheronea,  and  in  a  city  full  of 
sycophants  (in   the  Greek  sense)  and  personal  enemies  of  his, 
sarcasm,  accusations,  and  prosecutions  of  all  sorts,  rained  down 
upon  him.     In  vain.     The  very  men,  whom  he  was  accused  of 
deserting  in  battle,  chose  him,  while  their  wounds  were  yet 
bleeding,  in  preference  to  so  many  other  orators,  to  deliver  the 
funeral  oration  over  the  brave  that  had  fallen  in  that  battle.  This 
is  a  most  remarkable  fact ;  jEschines  speaks  of  it  in  words  of 
stinging  severity  ;  yet  it  was  in  obedience  to  the  commands  of  the 
people ;  a  jury  of  the  vicinage,  who  must  have  witnessed  the 
dastardly  conduct  imputed  to  him,  as  they  had  suffered  from  his 
ill-fated  counsels,  that  he  performed  this,  equally  distinguished 
and  delicate  duty.     There  is,  perhaps,  no  parallel  to  this,  every 
thing  considered,  in  the  history  of  any  other  great  man.     He 
was  baffled,  disappointed,  fallen,  ridiculous  in  the  eyes  of  the  op- 
position, odious  as  the  cause,  however  innocent,  of  such  terrible 
calamities;  without  a  party,  for  it  was  defeated,  without  a  coun- 
try, for  it  was  conquered,  and  yet,  instead  of  being  disgraced,  he 
was  more  honored  and  popular  than  before.     His  eloquence,  his 
zeal,  his  devoted   and  even   fanatical  patriotism,  had   raised  the 
people  up  to  the  height  of  his  own  heroical  spirit.  The  speech  of 
Lycurgus  against  Leocrates,  who  fled  in  terror  to  Rhodes  after 
the  disaster  of  Cheronea,  shows  how  lofty  and  determined  a  spirit 
of  resistance  had  taken  possession  of  men's  minds.     When  we 


THE  MAN,  THE  STATESMAN,  AND  THE  0RA10R.  489 

consider  the  depth  of  corruption  and  profligacy  in  which  Athens 
was  sunk,  we  are  filled  with  wonder  at  this  conclusive  evidence 
of  the  influence  of  Demosthenes.  He  had  "breathed  a  soul  under 
the  ribs  of  death" — he  found  the  commonwealth,  as  Demades  ex- 
pressed it,  the  mere  carcass  of  what  it  had  been  ;  he  touched  it 
with  the  fire  of  his  genius,  and  it  lived,  and  moved,  and  acted 
again,  for  a  brief  moment,  as  with  its  pristine  vitality  and  vigor. 

And  let  it  be  remembered  that  these  effects  were  produced  by 
speeches  in  none  of  which  (as  we  have  already  had  occasion  to 
observe  with  regard  to  his  private  judicial  arguments)  does  he 
condescend  to  any  topics  but  the  most  elevated  and  ennobling. 
His  rivals  made  a  jest  of  his  dwelling  always  on  the  glory  of 
the  past — on  Marathon  and  Salamis.  the  Parthenon  and  the 
Propylaea,  A  modern  writer*  even  censures  his  excessive  free- 
dom in  chiding,  nay,  scolding  the  people.  Seeking  no  personal 
ends,  despising,  from  his  haughty  and  morose  temper,  all  favor, 
or  protection,  intractable,  self-willed,  looking  upon  his  wonderful 
gifts  themselves  but  as  instruments  to  effect  the  objects  of  a  life 
devoted  to  maintaining  the  ascendant  of  Athens  in  the  Greek 
world,  he  spoke  with  the  courage  which  disinterestedness  always 
inspires.  What  had  he  to  dread?  Why  should  he  dissemble 
fearful  truths  because  they  might  be  offensive  to  his  audience? 
Was  he  to  flinch  from  uttering  counsels  on  which  the  salvation 
of  the  state  depended,  because  they  might  bring  odium  upon 
himself — he,  for  whose  proud  self-esteem,  nursed  in  studious 
solitude,  popularity  could  never  have  had  any  very  strong  at- 
tractions ?  As  to  his  successes  as  an  orator,  he  was  unwilling 
to  speak  except  when  the  occasion  demanded  it,  and  then,  Plu- 
tarch assures  us,  would  sometimes  refuse  to  do  so  without  time 
for  meditation,  even  though  called  for  by  the  people ;  for  his 
standard  was  the  Ideal,  and  he  knew  what  was  due  to  a  great 
subject  and  a  refined  audience.  But  it  never  could  have  entered 
into  the  heads  of  that  audience,  certainly  it  never  occurs  to  his 
readers,  that  he  would  have  received  a  compliment  to  his  oratory, 
merely  as  such,  in  any  other  light  but  as  an  insult  to  his  under- 
standing. 

But  his  sagacity  in  detecting  the  designs  of  Philip,  his  mas- 
terly policy  in  counteracting  them,  and  the  unrivalled  grandeur 
and  power  of  his  eloquence,  were  all  unavailing.  The  most 
superficial  glance  at  the  external  history  of  that  period  will  con- 
vince any  one  that  the  struggle  to  save  the  democracy,  however 
noble  and  heroic,  was  in  vain.  The  bare  outline  of  events,  pre- 
sented even  by  such  a  writer  as  Diodorus  Siculus,  is  enough  to 
establish  that.  His  sixteenth  book  is  a  necessary  corollary  from 
the  fifteenth.     From  the  seizing  by  the  Spartans  of  the  citadel 

*  Wachsmuth,  v.  ii, 
vol.  i. — 62 


490  DEMOSTHENES, 

of  Thebes  in  Olymp.  99.  3.,  until  the  battle  of  Cheronea,  in 
Olymp.  110.  3.,  every  part  of  Greece  was  a  prey  to  perpetual 
war,  revolution,  and  brigandage.  The  life  of  Demosthenes, 
who,  according  to  the  prevailing  opinion,  was  born  in  Olymp. 
98.  4.,  covers  this  whole  period.  At  the  beginning  of  it  we  see 
Sparta  at  the  very  height  of  her  despotic  Hegemony  in  Greece. 
An  insurrection,  however,  set  on  foot  by  a  few  Theban  exiles, 
led  by  two  of  the  greatest  men,  one  of  them,  perhaps,  the  very 
greatest  man  of  Greek  history,  subverts  that  domination  so  com- 
pletely, that  in  a  few  years  her  most  ancient  dependencies  are 
wrested  from  her,  and  her  soil,  for  so  many  centuries  undefined 
by  the  foot  of  a  foe,  is  overrun,  and  the  Eurotas,  according  to 
the  image  of  Demades,  is  startled,  for  the  first  time,  by  the 
trumpet  of  invasion.  But  the  glory  of  Thebes  descended  with 
Epaminondas  to  the  tomb,  and  the  first  holy  war — which,  begun 
and  carried  on  in  sacrilege  and  plunder,  raged  for  ten  years  to- 
gether— completely  reduced  that  city  to  extremities,  and  placed 
her,  with  all  Greece,  exhausted  and  spiritless,  at  the  mercy  of 
Philip,  now  admitted  into  the  Amphictyonic  council,  and  invest- 
ed, as  a  member  of  that  body,  with  authority  to  meddle  with 
the  politics  of  the  confederacy.  Meanwhile,  the  Social  War 
breaks  down  the  power  of  Athens  and  cuts  off  all  her  resources, 
and  with  them  the  means  of  providing  for  her  worthless  popula- 
tion, hitherto  fed  by  what  may  be  called  her  colonial  and  federal 
dependencies,  and  of  paying  the  mercenary  troops,  into  whose 
hands  the  fate  of  nations  had  now  passed.  These  selfish  adventu- 
rers, whose  country  was  their  camp,  and  whose  only  fidelity  was 
to  the  best  paymaster,  swarmed  over  the  whole  face  of  Greece. 
Citizen-soldiers — a  truth  Demosthenes  did  not  see — were  no 
longer  fit  for  serving  in  war,  become  an  art  under  the  new  tactics 
of  Iphicrates  and  Agesilaus.  That  Philip,  with  his  treasury 
filled  by  the  gold  mines  of  Thrace,  with  an  army  experienced 
and  devoted  to  him,  with  lieutenants  like  Parmenio  and  Antipater 
to  execute  his  plans,  and  himself,  like  Napoleon  and  Frederick 
II.,  that  most  formidable  of  all  adversaries,  a  sovereign  general- 
issimo, should  overthrow  the  democracy  of  Athens,  even  had 
her  badly  appointed  troops  been  led  byChabrias  and  Timotheus, 
is  surely  any  thing  but  astonishing.*  But  what  sort  of  chance 
could  she  have,  whatever  might  be  the  courage  and  the  enthusi- 
asm of  her  people,  with  her  armies  under  the  lead  of  such  a 
creature  as  Chares  ?  Nothing  shows  more  clearly  how  ripe  the 
times  were  for  another,  and  a  final  revolution,  than  the  fact  re- 
corded by  Diodorus,  that  Jason  of  Pherse,  meditated,  even  in 
his  day,  when  Chabrias,  and  Iphicrates,  and  Timotheus,  were  in 
the  height  of  their  excesses,  the  conquest  of  Greece,  and  counted 
*  See  what  Demosthenes  says,  De  Corona.,  §  65. 


THE  MAN,  THE  STATESMAN,  AND  THE  ORATOR.  491 

on  effecting  his  object  by  means  of  mercenary  forces,  whom  he 
justly  preferred  to  the  militia  of  his  country  for  the  purposes  of 
offensive  war. 

If  the  impression  made  upon  us  by  the  external  history  of 
Greece  at  this  period  is  so  unfavorable,  a  view  of  its  internal  con- 
dition would  fully  confirm  it.  But  our  space  does  not  permit  us 
to  do  justice  to  such  a  topic,*  and  we  have  already,  in  the  course 
of  our  observations,  been  compelled  to  say  much  of  the  deplora- 
ble corruption  of  the  times.t  The  orations  of  Demosthenes  and 
iEschines  alone  furnish  abundant  proofs  of  it — especially  that  of 
the  latter  against  Timarchus.  The  familiarity,  with  which  the 
orators  charged  each  other,  and  the  highest  personages  in  soci- 
ety and  the  state,  with  the  most  flagitious  crimes — with  bribery, 
perjury,  murder,  and  things  not  be  mentioned  in  christian  ears — 
is  not  more  shocking  than  the  cynical  levity  with  which  many 
of  them  confess  and  make  a  joke  ot  their  own  dishonor.  But 
the  people  of  Athens  had  lost  their  personal  identity,  so  to  ex- 
press it ;  they  were  no  longer  the  Autochthones,  so  proud,  of 
their  illustrious  origin,  of  former  times.  As  degenerate  in  race 
as  in  manners,  they  were  steeped  in  the  vices  of  ambitious  pov- 
erty. The  only  way  to  fortune  was  politics  or  war — only  two 
forms  of  piracy — and  they  served  as  mercenaries  in  both.  The 
robbing  of  temples  was  a  characteristic  of  the  times,*  and  led — 
especially  that  of  the  temple  of  Delphi — to  important  conse- 
quences. They  ceased  to  be  safe  depositaries  of  treasure,  and 
bankers  were  ever  after  resorted  to  for  that  purpose,  while  the 
gold  and  silver  formerly  hoarded  in  them  was  suddenly  thrown 
into  circulation  as  money,  and  served  to  stimulate  the  cupidity 
and  maintain  the  disorders  of  a  piratical  generation.  But,  more 
than  all  that,  the  great  basis  of  all  social  order,  religious  faith  or 
fear,  was  subverted  by  the  profanation  of  its  holiest  objects.  One 
additional  circumstance  is  too  important  to  be  overlooked.  It  is 
said  that  Alexander  restored  to  their  respective  cities  not  less 
than  thirty  thousand  exiles,  who  lived,  like  the  faorusciti  of  the 
Italian  republics,  an  army  of  outlaws,  ever  ready  for  any  mis- 
chief. In  short,  civil  society  was  in  a  state  of  dissolution  ;  this 
war  of  all  against  all  can  endure  no  where  a  moment  longer  than 
it  is  absolutely  unavoidable  ;  and  who  can  wonder,  as  Schlosser 
remarks, §  that  even  such  a  man  as  Phocion  preferred  Philip,  an 
educated  Greek,  a  Heracleid,  and  a  constitutional  monarch,  to 
some  bandit,  and,  perhaps,  barbarous  chief — the  Sforza  of  his 
time — who  would  probably  have  succeeded,  had  he  failed  in  his 
projects  of  conquest  ? 

[*  Aristoph.  passim — Clouds.  900  sq.] 

t  See  generally  Isocrates,  de  Pace,  especially  §  27,  sq. 

t  The  elder  D'ionysius,  the  tyrant,  was  famous  for  his  sacrilegious  depredations. 

§  Geschichte  der  Alten  Welt.  1  Th.  ii.  and  iii  Abth. 


492  DEMOSTHENES, 

The  private  character  of  Demosthenes  appears  in  his  speeches. 
It  so  happens,  as  we  have  seen,  that  of  some  of  the  most  re- 
markable of  these,  his  own  conduct,  feelings,  and  interests,  were 
the  principal  subject.  His  contests  with  his  guardians,  with 
Midias,  with  /Eschines,  exhibit  him  to  us  as  in  a  dramatic  auto- 
biography. But  independently  of  this  immediate  relation  be- 
tween the  author  and  his  works,  his  eloquence,  distinguished  as 
it  is  by  every  excellence,  is  for  nothing  more  remarkable,  than 
lor  its  spirit — its  living  spirit*— it  is  lull  of  soul,  to  use  a  fami- 
liar but  expressive  phrase.  From  its  sublime  character,  there- 
fore, we  may  be  sure,  that  whatever  may  have  been  his  practice 
and  conduct,  his  natural  impulses  were  all  as  high  as  his  sensi- 
bility was  deep  and  exquisite.  He  teaches  us  how  to  appreciate 
him  fairly,  when  he  demands  of  iEschines  that  he  should  judge 
him,  "not  by  comparison  with  the  men  of  other  times,  but  with 
those  of  his  own  day."  Plutarch,  referring  to  this  standard, 
gives  the  palm  to  Phocion  alone  of  all  his  contemporaries,,  to 
whom  we  ought  to  add  Lycurgus,  the  orator,  a  man  who  seems 
to  have  lived  and  died  without  reproach,  although  he  had  been  for 
twelve  years  entrusted  with  the  management  of  the  public  trea- 
sury at  Athens,  and  been  made  the  depositary  of  immense  sums 
on  private  account,  and  who,  it  deserves  to  be  added,  throughout 
the  whole  course  of  his  life,  adhered  steadfastly  to  the  party  of 
Demosthenes.  This  last  has  found  strenuous  champions  in  the 
great  German  critics  of  the  present  day.  They  will  admit  no- 
thing against  him  except  some  natural  frailties  of  a  venial  char- 
acter. The  two  capital  vices  with  which  antiquity  charged  him, 
and  which,  even  Plutarch,  with  some  hesitation,  seems  to  con- 
cede, were  cupidity  and  cowardice.  It  is  now  considered  as 
settled,  that  the  crime  of  having  been  bribed  by  Harpalus,  has, 
notwithstanding  the  judgment  of  the  Areopagus,  under  Macedo- 
nian influence,  been  completely  disproved ;  but  Westermann 
admits  that  he  received  considerable  largesses  from  the  Great 
King.  He  denies,  however,  roundly,  that  this  is  any  proof  of 
corruption  ;  they  were,  according  to  him,  mere  subsidies,  intend- 
ed to  be  used  against  the  common  enemy.  His  defence  of  De- 
mosthenes reminds  us  of  that  set  up  by  M.  Thiers  for  Mirabeau, 
when  that  needy  patriot  made  terms  with  the  court,  and  deter- 
mined on  arresting  (if  possible)  the  farther  progress  of  the  revo- 
lution. Bribery,  says  the  casuistical  historian,  is  the  wages  of 
treason  and  prostitution,  not  the  recompense  of  services  prompted 
by  previous  inclinations!  and  independent  judgment.     Demos- 

*  Dionys.  Halic.  tf.  t.  X.  A-yj/xoo'd.  Ssivorrir.  and  compare  what  the  philoso- 
pher Panaetius  apud  Plutarch  Demosth.  says  of  his  orations,  extolling  every 
where  the  to  xaXov  for  its  own  sake 

t  Hist,  de  la  ReVolut.  Francaise.  This  is  the  maxim  of  the  civilians.  Tur- 
piter  facit  qu6d  sit  meretrix,  non  turpiter  accipit  cum  sit  meretrix.     Another 


THE  MAN,  THE  STATESMAN,  AND  THE  ORATOR.  493 

thenes  has  a  still  higher  example  to  excuse  his  conduct  in  this 
particular.  It  is  the  better  opinion,  according  to  Hallam.  that 
most  of  the  leaders  of  the  exciusionists  in  1678 — Algernon  Sid- 
ney among  them — who  figure  in  Barillon's  accounts  with  his 
court  for  secret  service  money,  did,  in  fact,  receive  from  Louis 
XIV.  rewards  for  their  efforts  against  a  popish  succession.*  No- 
thing, however,  could  be  more  venial  in  the  eyes  of  every  good 
Athenian,  than  to  reduce,  by  any  means,  the  exchequer  of  his 
Persian  majesty.  Iphicrates,  when  accused  of  having  taken  a 
douceur  of  the  kind,  openly  confessed  it,  and  said,  amidst  shouts 
of  approving  laughter  from  the  mean  and  profligate  Demus,  that 
the  best  way  to  make  war  on  the  barbarians  was  to  send,  not 
armies  to  invade  their  territory,  but  ambassadors  to  pocket  their 
money. 

The  charge  of  effeminacy  and  want  of  courage  in  battle  seems 
to  be  considered  as  better  founded.  Plutarch  admits  it  fully. 
His  foppery  is  matter  of  ridicule  to  iEschines,  who,  at  the  same 
time,  in  rather  a  remarkable  passage  in  his  speech  on  the  Crown, 
gives  us  some  clue  to  the  popular  report  as  to  his  deficiency  in 
the  military  virtues  of  antiquity.  Who,  says  he,  will  be  there 
to  sympathize  with  him?  Not  they  who  have  been  trained  with 
him  in  the  same  gymnasium?  No,  by  Olympian  Jove  !  for,  in 
his  youth,  instead  of  hunting  the  wild  boar  and  addicting  him- 
self to  exercises  which  give  strength  and  activity  to  the  body,t 
he  was  studying  the  arts  that  were  one  day  to  make  him  the 
scourge  of  the  rich.t  Those  exercises§  were,  in  the  system  of 
the  Greeks,  for  reasons  which  we  had  occasion  to  develop  in  a 
number  of  this  Review  already  referred  to,  considered  as  abso- 
lutely indispensable  to  a  liberal  education.il  That  of  Demosthe- 
nes was  certainly  neglected  by  his  guardians,  and  the  probabil- 
ity is  that  the  effeminacy  with  which  he  was  reproached  meant 
nothing  more  than  that  he  had  not  frequented  in  youth  the  pal- 
estra and  the  gymnasium,  and  that  his  bodily  training  had  been 
sacrificed  to  his  intellectual.  That  he  possessed  moral  courage 
of  the  most  sublime  order  is  past  all  question ;  but  his  nerves 
were  weak.  If  the  tradition  that  is  come  down  to  us  in  regard 
to  his  natural  defects  as  an  orator  is  not  a  gross  exaggeration,  he 
had  enough  to  occupy  him  for  years  in  the  correction  of  them. 
But  what  an  idea  does  it  suggest  to  us  of  the  mighty  will,  the 

point  of  resemblance  is  that  Mirabeau  refused  many  challenges  without  losing 
caste  with  his  party. 

*  Constitut.  Hist,  of  England,  v.  ii.  p.  547,  8.  He  excepts  Russell  and  Hollis ; 
the  latter  declined,  the  former  was  not  insulted  with  an  offer. 

[t  Aristoph.  Eq.  1379.  sq.] 

t  Cont.  Ctesiph.  §  94.  As  to  his  soft  garments,  iEsch.  cont.  Timarch.  §  26.  cf. 
The  pseudo-Plut.  X.  orat.  in  Demosth. 

[§  TjPatpsvras  sv  tfaXa/aV^ajs  xai  X0.?0'?  xai  ^ouffixYj.  Aristoph.  Ran.  728.] 

II  Teren.  Eunuch.  II.  3.  23. 


494  DEMOSTHENES, 

indomitable  spirit,  the  decided  and  unchangeable  vocation,  that, 
in  spite  of  so  many  impediments,  his  genius  fulfilled  its  destiny, 
and  attained  at  last  to  the  supremacy  at  which  it  aimed  from  the 
first.  His  was  that  deep  love  of  ideal  beauty,  that  passionate 
pursuit  of  eloquence  in  the  abstract,  that  insatiable  thirst  after 
perfection  in  art  for  its  own  sake,  without  which  no  man  ever 
produced  a  master-piece  of  genius.*  Plutarch,  in  his  usual  gra- 
phic style,  places  him  before  us  as  if  he  were  an  acquaintance — 
aloof  from  the  world  ;  immersed  in  the  study  of  his  high  calling, 
with  his  brow  never  unbent  from  care  and  thought ;  severely 
abstemious  in  the  midst  of  dissoluteness  and  debauchery  ;  a  wa- 
ter drinker  among  Greeks ;  like  that  other  Agonistes,  elected  and 
ordained  to  struggle,  to  suffer,  and  to  perish  for  a  people  unwor- 
thy of  him : — 

"His  mighty  champion,  strong  above  compare, 
Whose  drink  was  only  from  the  liquid  brook." 

Let  any  one,  who  has  considered  the  state  of  manners  at 
Athens  just  at  the  moment  of  his  appearance  upon  the  stage  of 
public  life,  imagine  what  an  impression  such  a  phenomenon 
must  have  made  upon  a  people  so  lost  in  profligacy  and  sensual- 
ity of  all  sorts.  What  wonder  that  the  unprincipled  though 
gifted  Demades,  the  very  personification  of  the  witty  and  reck- 
less libertinism  of  the  age,  should  deride  and  scoff  at  this  strange 
man,  living  as  nobody  else  lived,  thinking  as  nobody  else 
thought;  a  prophet,  crying  from  his  solitude  of  great  troubles  at 
hand  ;  the  apostle  of  the  past ;  the  preacher  of  an  impossible  res- 
toration ;  the  witness  to  his  contemporaries  that  their  degeneracy 
was  incorrigible  and  their  doom  hopeless,  and  that  another  seal 
in  the  book  was  broken,  and  a  new  era  of  calamity  and  downfall 
opened  in  the  history  of  nations. 

We  have  said  that  the  character  of  Demosthenes  might  be  di- 
vined from  his  eloquence  ;  and  so  the  character  of  his  eloquence 
was  a  mere  emanation  of  his  own.  It  was  the  life  and  soul  of 
the  man,  the  patriot,  the  statesman.  "Its  highest  attribute  of  all," 
says  Dionysius,  "is  the  spirit  of  life — to  <rvs-j(aa — that  pervades  it." 
His  very  language  dictates  to  a  reader  how  it  is  to  be  uttered, 
and  I  should  think  it  impossible  (it  is  the  same  critic  who  speaks) 
that  one  with  the  sense  of  a  brute,  nay,  of  a  stock  or  stone,  could 
pronounce  his  text  without  distinguishing  the  various  meaning, 
and  kindling  with  the  changing  passions  of  the  master.  This  is 
the  first  and  great  characteristic  of  Demosthenes,  the  orator. 
You  see  absolutely  nothing  of  the  artist ;  nay,  you  forget  the 
speaker  altogether:    it  is  the  statesman,  or  the  man  only,  that  is 

*  The  words  of  Cic.  de  Orat.  1. 1,  c.  30.  What  besides  natural  gifts  shall  be 
needed  1  Quid  censes,  inquit  Cotla,  nisi  studium  el  nrdorem  quendam  amoris  sine  quo, 
etc.    And  see  the  same  thing  said  of  Demosth.  Lucian,  Enconi. 


THE  STATESMAN,  AND  THE  ORATOR-  495 

before  you.  To  him,  eloquence,  wonderful  as  his  was  consider- 
ed as  mere  rhetoric,  is  but  an  instrument,  not,  as  in  Cicero,  a 
thing  to  boast  of  and  display.  This  feature  of  his  character  has 
been  well  seized  and  portrayed  by  the  author  of  a  declamatory 
encomium  on  Demosthenes,  ascribed  to  Lucian  and  printed 
among  his  works.  Gesner  and  Becker  after  him  will  not  consent 
to  give  it  up  ;  all  we  can  say  is  that,  if  it  is  the  work  of  the  Voltaire 
of  antiquity,  Lucian  was  not  Lucian  when  he  wrote  it.  But, 
though  too  high-flown  and  exaggerated  for  its  supposed  author, 
it  is  a  striking  instance  of  the  admiration  in  which  the  great 
orator  was  held  by  the  Greeks  in  all  ages.  It  is  from  him  we 
borrow  the  phrase  "the  Homer  of  Prose,"  which  describes  so  well 
the  admitted  perfections  of  Demosthenes  as  a  writer.  But  it  is 
not  his  style  only  that  is  extolled  there.  He  admires  his  life, 
his  administration,  his  truly  touching  and  sublime  death.  He  puts 
into  the  mouth  of  Antipater  a  supposed  conversation  in  refer- 
ence to  this  last  event,  in  which  the  latter  does  justice  to  his  great 
adversary  in  a  magnanimous  spirit,  and  regrets  that  he  chose 
rather  to  die  free  and  by  his  own  hand,  than  survive  a  courtier 
for  the  favor,  <or  a  dependant  upon  the  mercy  of  the  conqueror. 
It  consecrates  forever  that  tragical  scene  at  Calauria,  and  leaves 
the  image  of  the  mighty  orator  upon  the  mind  with  the  greatest 
pictures  of  fiction  or  history — with  CEdipus  at  Colonus,  or  Marius 
sitting  upon  the  ruins  of  Carthage.  We  cannot  join  with  the 
author  in  his  blasphemy  against  heaven  for  the  trials  to  which 
the  greatest  men  have  almost  always  been  subjected,  and  none 
more  than  Demosthenes.  We  know  that  sorrow  is  knowledge  ; 
that,  if  in  much  wisdom  there  is  much  grief,  the  reverse  is  also 
true  ;  and  that  adversity  is  the  only  school  in  which  genius  and 
virtue  are  permitted  to  take  their  highest  degrees. 

The  second  remarkable  feature  of  the  eloquence  of  Demos- 
thenes is  a  consequence  of  the  first :  its  amazing  flexibility  and 
variety.  As  he  thinks  only  of  the  subject,  so  he  always  speaks 
like  his  subject.  We  have  endeavored  to  illustrate  this  through 
the  whole  course  of  this  paper.  We  wanted  to  eradicate  the 
false  and  pernicious  idea  that  Demosthenian  is  synonymous 
with  ranting.  At  times,  no  doubt,  on  extraordinary  and  exciting 
occasions,  he  forgot  himself  in  a  transport  of  passion,  and  raged 
on  the  Bema,  as  Plutarch  has  it,  like  a  Bacchante.  But  we  will 
venture  to  affirm,  that  when  he  did  so,  his  audience  was  as  little 
conscious  of  it  as  himself,  partaking  fully  with  him  in  the  phren- 
zy  of  the  moment.  In  general,  he  aims  at  nothing  but  the  true 
and  the  natural.  Hence,  every  thing  is  perfectly  appropriate  and 
fitting,  and,  in  the  almost  infinite  range  of  his  speaking,  from  a 
special  plea  in  bar  or  in  abatement,  (^a^a^,)  to  the  sublime 
and  ravishing  enthusiasm  of  the  immortal  defence  of  the  Crown, 
every  thing  is  every  where  just  what  it  ought  to  be — "proper 


496  DEMOSTHENES, 

words  in  proper  places."  It  is  he  that  exemplifies  Cicero's  defi- 
nition— Is  enim  est  eloqtiens,  qui  et  humilia  subtiliter,  et  mag- 
na graviter,  et  mediocria  temperate  potest  dicere.*  And  ac- 
cordingly, he  remarks  farther  that  he  is  fully  equal  to  Lysias,  to 
Hyperides,  and  to  uEschines,  in  their  respective  excellencies, 
while  he  adds  to  them,  whenever  occasion  calls  for  them,  his 
own  unapproachable  sublimity  and  power.  Dionysius  of  Hali- 
carnassus  goes  still  farther.  In  a  work,  written  expressly  to 
unfold  the  perfection  of  the  diction  of  Demosthenes,  (for  he 
promised  another  and  a  separate  one  upon  his  other  excellencies,) 
he  shows,  by  a  critical  comparison  of  passages  from  the  works 
of  the  orator  with  the  most  celebrated  productions  of  other  pens, 
that  he  was  the  greatest  master  of  every  style.  He  prefers  him, 
for  instance,  to  Plato,  even  in  that  kind  of  writing,  in  which  the 
philosopher  is  considered  as  a  model. 

The  third  distinguishing  peculiarity  of  Demosthenes  as  an 
orator  is  that  his  greatest  beauties  consist  not  in  words  or  tropes 
and  figures  of  rhetoric,  similes,  metaphors,  etc.,  which  he  seldom 
condescends  to  use,  but  in  thought,  and  sentiment,  and  passion. 
The  forms  he  delights  in  most  are  all  adapted  to  express  these — 
to  show  the  orator  to  be  truly  in  earnest,  and  to  enforce  his  opin- 
ions as  matters  of  deep  conviction  with  himself,  and  deserving 
to  be  so  with  his  hearers.  His  grandest  amplifications  are  only 
vehement  reasonings.  Hence,  too,  his  occasional  abruptness,  aud 
suddenness  of  transition  and  startling  appeal,  interrogatory  and 
apostrophe — all  the  perfection  of  art  because  the  dictate  of  na- 
ture, which  Blair  most  absurdly  censures  as  defects,  as  if  the 
master  of  all  style  fell  into  such  things  because  he  could  not 
help  it.  Cicero  developes  this  topic  at  some  length,  and  with  his 
usual  power  of  language,  in  one  of  his  rhetorical  works.t  He 
represents  his  perfect  orator,  who  is  only  an  imaginary  Demos- 
thenes, as  presenting  the  same  topic  often  in  various  lights,  and 
dwelling  upon  it  more  or  less  according  to  circumstances — as 
extenuating  some  things  and  turning  others  into  ridicule — as 
occasionally  deviating  from  his  subject  and  propounding  what 
he  shall  presently  have  to  say,  and  when  he  has  fully  discussed 
any  matter,  reducing  it  into  the  shape  of  a  rule  or  definition — 
as  correcting  himself,  or  repeating  what  he  had  said — as  pressing 
by  interrogation  and  answering  his  own  questions — as  wishing 
to  be  taken  in  a  sense  the  opposite  of  what  he  seems  to  say — as 
doubting  what  or  how  he  should  speak — as  dividing  into  parts, 
omitting  and  neglecting  some  points  and  fortifying  others  in 
advance — as  casting  the  blame  upon  his  adversary  of  the  very 

•  Orat.  c.  29,  cf.  31. 

t  Orator,  cc.  39,  40.  Every  reader  of  Demosthenes  is  familiar  with  such  sen- 
tences as  ou<5s  y%v — tfoXXou  ys  xai  <$£»,  etc.,  thrown  so  naturally  in  the  midst 
of  the  most  splendid  passages. 


THE  MAN,  THE  STATESMAN,  AND  THE  ORATOR.  497 

things  for  which  he  is  himself  censured — as  often  deliberating 
with  those  who  hear  him,  sometimes  even  with  his  adversary — 
as  describing  the  manners  and  language  of  men — as  making- 
mute  things  speak  [that  is  rare  in  Demosthenes] — as  drawing 
off  the  minds  of  the  audience  from  the  true  question  before 
them — as  anticipating  objections  which  he  foresees  will  be  made — 
as  comparing  analogous  cases — as  citing  examples — as  putting 
down  interruptions — as  pretending  to  suppress  or  reserve  some- 
thing, or  to  say  less  than  he  knows — as  warning  those  he  ad- 
dresses to  be  on  their  guard — as  venturing  at  times  on  some 
bold  proposition— as  being  angry,  and  even  so  far  as  to  chide 
and  rail — as  deprecating,  supplicating,  conciliating — as  uttering 
wishes  or  execrations,  and  using  sometimes  a  certain  familiarity 
with  his  hearers.  He  will,  he  continues,  aim,  at.  other  times,  at 
other  virtues  of  style — as  brevity,  if  the  occasion  call  for  it.  He 
will  bring  the  object  often  before  their  very  eyes,  etc.  etc.  It  is, 
indeed,  in  such  ornaments  of  speech  as  these  that  the  grand 
excellence  of  Demosthenes  consists — it  is  by  these  that  it  becomes 
a  thing  of  life,  and  power,  and  persuasion — a  means  of  busi- 
ness— a  motive  of  action — but  there  is  never  the  least  prettiness 
or  rhetoric — nothing  fine,  or  showy,  or  theatrical — nothing  in 
short,  that  can  be  spared,  nothing  that  can  be  lopped  off  without 
mutilating  and  weakening  the  body  as  well  as  deforming  it. 

And  this  leads  us  to  consider  a  fourth  characteristic  of  his  elo- 
quence— its  condensation  and  perfect  logical  unity.  It  is  not 
easy,  perhaps,  without  extending  these  remarks  farther  than 
would  be  proper  here,  to  make  ourselves  quite  intelligible  upon 
this  subject  to  the  general  reader.  But  every  one  that  has  stu- 
died Greek  literature  and  art,  will  at  once  perceive  that  we  refer  to 
that  unity  of  design,  that  closeness  of  texture  and  mutual  depen- 
dence of  the  parts — that  harmony  of  composition  and  exact  fit- 
ness and  proportion — in  short,  that  cMwyx^  \oyoygacpixri,  as  Plato  ex- 
presses it,  which  makes  of  every  production  of  genius  a  sort  of 
organized  body,  with  nothing  superfluous,  nothing  defective  in  it, 
but  every  thing  necessary  to  constitute  a  complete  whole,  an- 
swering perfectly  the  ends  of  its  being,  whatever  those  may  be.* 
What  Cicero  says  of  the  Stoical  philosophyt  may  be  applied  to 
the  orations  of  Demosthenes.  What  is  there  in  the  works  of  na- 
ture where  such  a  perfect  arrangement  and  symmetry  prevail 
or  in  those  of  man,  so  well  put  together,  so  compact,  so  intimate- 
ly united  ?  What  consequent  does  not  agree  with  its  antecedent  ? 
What  follows  that  does  not  answer  to  that  which  goes  before  1 
What  is  there  that  is  not  so  knit  together  with  the  rest,  that,  if  a 
single  letter  be  removed,  the  whole  structure  would  totter?  But, 
in  truth,  nothing  can  be  Removed,  etc.  We  differ,  therefore,  en- 
tirely, with  Lord  Brougham,   when,  in  one  of  the  passages  cited 

*  Plato..  Phaedr.  p.  264,  c.  t  De  Finib.  iii.  22. 

vol.  i. — 63 


498  DEMOSTHENES, 

above,  he  speaks  of  this  marvellous  unity  and  condensation  as  a 
thing  as  much  within  the  reach  of  mediocrity  as  of  genius.  It  is, 
on  the  contrary,  the  perfection  of  Greek  art,  and  the  orations  of 
Demosthenes  are  in  this,  as  in  every  other  respect,  the  most  ex- 
quisite model  of  it. 

Another  excellence,  that  has  been  mentioned  repeatedly  in  the 
course  of  the  preceding  remarks,  remains  to  be  particularly  no- 
ticed. Not  only  do  the  orations  of  Demosthenes  resemble  the 
great  works  of  nature  in  this,  that  their  beauty  and  sublimity  are 
inseparable  from  utility,  or  more  properly  speaking,  that  utility  is 
the  cardinal  principle  of  all  their  beauties,  but  there  is  still  an- 
other analogy  between  them.  It  is,  that  the  grandeur  of  the  whole 
result  is  not  more  remarkable  than  the  elaborate  and  exquisite 
finish  of  the  most  minute  details.  Dionysius,  in  the  essay  so  of- 
ten referred  to,  aims  to  show  that  the  orator  was  by  far  the  great- 
est master  of  composition  the  world  had  ever  seen.  This  critic 
may  be  relied  on  for  such  a  purpose.  His  fault  is,  that  he  ex- 
acts in  all  things  rather  a  pedantic  precision  and  accuracy.  In 
short,  he  is  hypercritical,  and  is  too  little  disposed  to  make  allow- 
ance for  small  blemishes,  even  when  they  are  redeemed  by  high 
virtues,  or  to  approve  and  relish  the  non  ingrata  negligentia — 
the  careless  grace  of  genius.  But,  in  Demosthenes,  whose  elo- 
quence makes  him  perfectly  ecstatical  in  its  praise,  he  searches 
in  vain  for  a  spot,  however  minute.  He  takes  his  examples  at 
random,  and  finds  every  thing  perfect  every  where.  Certainly, 
in  the  critical  comparisons  which  he  institutes  between  him  and 
Plato  and  Isocrates,  it  is  impossible  not  to  admit  the  soundness  of 
his  judgments.  This  prodigious  perfection  of  style  he  affirms  to 
have  been  a  creation  of  the  orator's.  He  had  studied,  he  thinks, 
all  the  masters  who  had  gone  before  him,  and,  selecting  from  each 
what  he  excelled  in,  made  up  a  composition  far  superior  to  any 
of  its  ingredients.  Thucydides  gave  him  his  force  and  pregnan- 
cy, Lysias,  his  clearness,  ease,  and  nature,  Isocrates,  his  occasional 
splendor  and  brilliancy,  and  Plato,  his  majesty,  elevation,  and 
abundance.  That  Demosthenes  studied,  and  studied  profound- 
ly, all  these  models,  we  have  no  doubt.  Of  Thucydides,  espe- 
cially, the  tradition  represents  him  to  have  been  a  devoted  admir- 
er. But  eclecticism,  imitation,  was  out  of  the  question  with 
him.  Undoubtedly  he  was  indebted  to  them  for  having  done  so 
much  to  perfect  the  instrument  he  was  to  use — the  Greek  lan- 
guage; and  their  beauties  and  defects  were  hints  to  him  in  the 
training  of  his  own  mighty  and  original  genius.  But  that  is  all  r 
had  they  never  written,  his  works  would  not,  probably,  have 
been  so  unblemished  in  the  execution,  but  they  would  infallibly 
have  formed  an  era  in  literature,  and  displayed  very  much  the 
same  excellences  that  now  distinguish  them. 

The  instrument,  of  which  we  have  just  spoken,  must  not  be 


THE  MAN,  THE  STATESMAN,  AND  THE  ORATOR.  499 

lost  sight  of  in  appreciating  the  Greek  masters,  and  especially 
Demosthenes.  When  one  reads  the  rhetorical  works  of  Cicero 
and  Dionysius,  one  cannot  but  perceive  that  the  ancient  lan- 
guages, from  their  complicated  and  highly  artificial  structure, 
admitted  of  certain  graces  that  cannot  be  aimed  at,  to  any  thing 
like  the  same  degree,  by  any  modern  composition.  One  of  these 
is  harmony  and  rhythm.  The  effect,  which  a  polished  and  mu- 
sical period  (in  the  right  place)  had  on  the  ears  of  an  Attic,  and 
even  of  a  Roman  assembly,  is  scarcely  intelligible  any  where  but 
in  southern  Europe.  But  there  was  immense  difficulty  in  avoid- 
ing a  vicious  extreme  in  the  use  of  this  art.  If  it  were  not  di- 
rected by  the  most  exquisite  taste  and  judgment,  it  became  very 
offensive,  and  gave  to  a  business  speech  the  air  of  a  mere  pane- 
gyrical or  scholastic  declamation.  Not  only  so,  but  nothing  was 
harder  to  avoid  than  the  uttering  of  a  complete  verse,  and  no- 
thing was  reckoned  more  vicious.  In  this,  as  in  every  other 
respect,  Demosthenes  is  pronounced  by  Dionysius  a  perfect 
model  of  judgment  and  excellence.  With  a  compass,  a  fulness, 
a  pomp  and  magnificence  of  periods  that  distance  the  efforts  of 
Isocrates  in  the  same  style,  he  displays  such  an  inexhaustible 
variety  of  cadence,  his  tone  is  so  continually  changing  with  the 
topic,  there  is  every  where  such  an  appearance  of  ease  and  sim- 
plicity, that  while  the  ear  is  always  charmed,  the  taste  is  never 
once  offended.  He  takes  care  always  of  the  great  capital  object  of 
eloquence — the  being,  and  seeming  to  be  in  earnest.  For  this 
reason  it  is  that  he  throws  in  occasionally  those  abrupt  and 
startling  sentences,  so  ignorantly  censured  by  Blair.  He  thus 
avoids  that  continuity,  which  is  too  apparent  and  somewhat  of- 
fensive in  Cicero,  who  continually  forgets  his  own  maxims  on 
this  subject — that  in  all  things  sameness  is  the  mother  of  satiety.* 
That  so  great  a  master  of  the  human  heart  as  Demosthenes, 
that  a  statesman,  occupied  with  the  gravest  public  affairs,  that  a 
political  leader,  excited  even  to  fanatacism  by  the  conflict  of  par- 
ties and  the  war  of  the  popular  assembly,  should  have  time  or 
even  inclination  to  give  a  thought  to  such  minuticB  of  style,  may 
seem,  at  first,  strange.  But  it  is  not  so.  In  the  first  place,  this 
perfection  was  become  nature  with  him  by  the  time  he  made 
his  first  appearance  on  the  Bema.  That  lamp  had  not  been  burn- 
ing in  vain,  in  deep  solitude,  from  his  early  youth  upwards. 
But,  independently  of  that,  it  is  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  they 
whose  writings  and  speeches  have  had  the  greatest  sway  over  the 
minds  of  men,  have  been  ever  careless  about  the  form  and  finish 
of  their  v^orks.  The  very  reverse  is  the  fact.  Franklin,  Paine, 
Cobbett,  Paul  Louis  Courier,  Beranger,  Swift — were  all  not  only 

*  On  this  whole  subject  see  Dionys.  Hal.  or.  r.  X.  Aijfi.otf^sv.  dsivorrir.  §  33. 
et  sqq.  and  Cic.  orat.  cc.  44-70. 


500  DEMOSTHENES, 

good,  but  exquisite,  writers ;  minutely  versed  in  all  the  secrets  of 
the  art  of  composition.  And  there  is  yet  another  instance,  still 
more  remarkable,  as  presenting  more  than  one  coincidence  with 
Demosthenes.  We  mean  J.  J.  Rousseau— the  master,  the  Soc- 
rates of  the  French  Convention,  whose  frantic  declamations  were 
mere  paraphrases  or  perversions  of  his  political  speculations. 
Never,  perhaps,  has  a  writer  exercised  a  more  terrible  influence ; 
yet  look  at  his  matchless  style,  and  see  what  he  says,  in  his  Con- 
fessions, of  his  extreme  slowness  and  labor  in  composition. — 
Those  pages,  which  seem  to  have  been  filled  up  as  with  a  flood 
of  spontaneous,  irrepressible  passion,  in  "those  burning  ecstacies" 
of  his,  were  the  tardy  product  of  years  ot  deep  and  mature  medi- 
tation ;  those  musical  periods,  that  natural,  various,  and  abundant 
language  of  sensibility  excited  even  to  madness;  they  were  not 
dropped  there  in  a  fit  of  Sibylline  rage  and  inspiration,  but  weigh- 
ed, and  trimmed,  and  recast,  and  polished  over  with  a  most  me- 
chanical precision  and  pains-taking,  hundreds  of  times,  before 
they  were  sent  forth  to  wring  and  agitate  the  hearts  of  men. 
Shall  we  wonder  at  the  elaborateness  of  Demosthenes,  in  the 
midst  of  by  far  the  most  cultivated  people  (we  mean,  of  course, 
in  reference  to  art)  the  world  lias  ever  seen  ?  No  better  is  need- 
ed of  their  taste,  than  the  pains  he  took  to  satisfy  it ;  his  master- 
pieces were  such  because  they  required  them  to  be  so ;  and,  both 
by  his  efforts  to  please  them,  and  his  success  in  doing  so  by  works 
matchless  in  every  perfection,  he  is  the  pride  and  glory,  as  he 
was  the  idol,  of  the  democracy  of  Athens. 

One  thing  more,  and  we  have  done.  These  speeches,  how- 
ever elaborately  composed,  were  still  speeches.  Every  thing  is 
done  to  give  them  an  air  of  business,  and  the  appearance  of 
being  the  spontaneous  effusions  of  the  moment.  No  extempo- 
raneous harangues  were  ever  more  free  and  natural.*  They 
were  made  to  be  delivered — some  of  them  before  tribunals  com- 
posed of  many  hundred  judges,  others  before  the  ecclesia  itself, 
all  of  them  in  vast  assemblages  of  people.  Under  such  circum- 
stances, in  animated  conflicts  with  able  and  eloquent  adversaries, 
a  graceful,  impressive  manner,  a  clear,  audible,  passionate  voice, 
and  all  the  other  attractions  of  delivery  were  highly  necessary. 
His  own  repeated  failures,  on  account  of  some  defect  from  per- 
sonal disadvantages  in  this  way,  led  him  to  utter  the  sentence  so 
often  repeated  since,  that,  to  an  orator,  the  one  thing  needful  is 
good  uacting."\  This  comprehends  the  management  of  voice, 
air,  countenance,  gesture,  movements  upon  the  Bema,  and  the 

*  See  cont.  Timocrat.  §  31.  Cont.  Mid.  §  22,  and  F.  A.  Wolfe,  ad  Leptin.  §  18. 

f  'Tiroxgicfic; — not  "action"  as  it  has  been  improperly  translated.  The  best 
essay,  beyond  comparison,  we  have  ever  met  with,  upon  delivery,  is  in  the  au- 
thor ad  Herenn  1.  iii.  cc.  11.  15  ;  the  great  object  of  all  is  to  seem  in  earnest — tit  res 
ex  animo  agi  videatur. 


THE  MAN,  THE  STATESMAN,  AND  THE  ORATOR.  501 

attainment  of  the  perfect  self-possession,  sure  tact  and  nice  sense 
of  propriety  necessary  to  it.  The  art  of  delivery  was  rendered 
peculiarly  important  at  Athens,  by  the  extreme  impatience  and 
intractableness  of  the  audiences.  We  see  evidence  of  this  in 
all  the  remains  of  the  orator.  Whole  pages  of  the  very  pre- 
possessing opening  of  iEschines,  on  the  Embassy,  are  depreca- 
tory of  prejudice  and  unwillingness  to  hear  argument.  Many 
other  examples  might  easily  be  cited.  In  this,  as  in  every  other 
excellence  of  his  art,  Demosthenes  was  without  a  rival ;  and  his 
perfection  here,  too,  must  be  described  by  the  same  epithets — he 
was  natural  and  in  earnest.  His  most  formidable  rival  acknow- 
ledged this  by  describing  him,  as  he  does,  as  a  magician  or  jug- 
gler in  oratory,  and  as  one  whose  passions  are  so  much  under 
his  control  that,  when  occasion  demands  it,  he  can  cry  more 
easily  than  others  laugh.*  On  this  subject,  Dionysius  of  Hali- 
carnassus,  in  the  essay  already  recited,  after  describing  the  effect 
of  these  orations  upon  him,  adds,  "If  we,  at  such  a  vast  distance 
of  time,  and  no  longer  feeling  any  personal  interest  in  the  sub- 
jects, are  so  agitated,  and  controlled,  and  carried  about  in  every 
direction  by  his  eloquence,  how  must  the  Athenians  and  other 
Greeks  have  been  led  by  the  man  then — when  they  were  in  the 
midst  of  the  real  struggle  so  vitally  touching  themselves,  and  he 
was  delivering  his  own  language  with  the  dignity  that  belonged 
to  him,  and  the  courage  of  an  elevated  spirit,  adorning  and  en- 
forcing every  thing  with  a  suitable  delivery,  (of  which,  as  all 
confess,  and  as  is  indeed  evident*  from  the  very  tone  of  his 
speeches,!)  he  was  the  greatest  master. 

Such  was  Demosthenes,  the  Man,  the  Statesman,  and  the 
Orator.  If  what  we  have  written  from  impressions  made  upon 
us  by  a  long  and  rather  intimate  conversation  with  the  great 
original,  should  be  found,  as  we  flatter  ourselves  it  will,  to  place 
some  things  in  his  history  and  character  in  a  new  or  more  strik- 
ing light,  to  the  general  reader,  we  shall  be  most  amply  re- 
warded for  the  pains  we  have  been  put  to  in  writing  this  article. 
In  conclusion,  we  give  it  in  as  our  experience,  that  the  trouble 
(certainly  not  inconsiderable)  of  acquiring  a  competent  know- 
ledge of  Greek  for  that  purpose,  is  far  more  than  compensated 
by  the  single  privilege  of  reading  Demosthenes. 

The  remarks  we  proposed  making  on  the  Epimetrum  of  M. 
Westermann,  and  Lord  Brougham's  admiration  for  the  spurious 
speeches,  are,  for  want  of  space,  necessarily  omitted  here. 

*iEsch.'de  Fals.  Legat.  \  20  and  27,  calls  him  yong,  cont.  Ctesiph.  §71. 
f  if.  t.  X.  Ar\po<f()ev.  dsivorrir.  §  22. 


THE  ORIGIN,  HISTORY  AND  INFLUENCE  OF 
ROMAN  LEGISLATION. 


1.  Lehrbuch  cines    civilistischen  Cursus,    vom  Geheimen  Justiz-Rath  Ritter 

Hugo,  in  G5ttingen,  Dritter  Bandwelcher  die  Geschichte  des  Romischen 
Rechts  bis  auf  Justinian  enthalt.  Elite,  sehr  veranderte  Auflage.  Ber- 
lin:   1835. 

2.  Corpus  Juris  Cirilis,  ad  fidem  Manuscriptorum  aliorumque  subsidiorum  criti- 

corum  recensuit,  commentario  perpetuo  instruxit  Eduardus  Schrader, 
Jctus.  In  operis  societatem  accesserunt  Theoph.  Lucas.  Frider.  Tafel, 
Philolog.  Gualth.  Frider.  Clossius.  Jctus.  Post  hujus  discessum,  Chris- 
toph.  Joh.  C.  Maier,  Jctus.  Tomus  Primus,  Institutionum  Libri  iv.  Bero- 
lini:    MDCCCXXX1I. 

3.  Gaii  Institutionum  Commentarii  Gluatuor,  cura.  Augusti  Guil.  Hepfter. 

Bonn*:    MDCCCXXX. 

4.  Commentaries  on  the  conflict  of  Laws,  Foreign  and  Domestic,  in  regard  to 

Contracts,  Rights,  and  Remedies,  and  especially  in  regard  to  Marriages, 
Divorces,  Wills,  Successions,  and  Judgments.  By  Joseph  Story,  LL.  D., 
Dane  Professor  of  Law  in  Harvard  University.    Boston:    1834. 

5.  Institutionum  Juris  Romani  Privati  Historico-Dogmaticarum  Lineamenta, 

observationibus  maximfc  litterariis  distincta  in  usum  praelectionum  denuo  ad- 
umbravit  et  Legum  Duodecim  Tabularum  nee  non  Edicti  Praetoris  atque 
iEdilitii  sententias  integras,  etc.,  adjecit.  D.  Christ.  Gottlieb  Haubold, 
antecessor,  Lipsiensis.  Post  mortem  auctoris  edidit  atque  additamentis  aux- 
it  D.  Carolus  Eduardus  Otto,  Professor  Lipsiensis.    Lipsice:    1826. 

Mr.  Hallam,  in  his  "History  of  the  Middle  Ages/3*  speaking 
of  the  civil  law  and  its  earlier  professors  in  modern  times,  re- 
marks, that  he  "should  earn  little  gratitude  for  his  obscure  dili- 
gence, were  he  to  dwell  on  the  forgotten  teachers  of  a  science 
that  is  likely  soon  to  be  forgotten."  As  we  do  not  affect  to 
have  done  more  ourselves  than  glance  over  the  pages  of  the 
Corpus  Juris  Civilis  Glossatum,  and  know  (we  confess  it  with 
shame)  little  more  of  those  restorers  of  Roman  jurisprudence 
than  may  be  learned  from  Gravina  or  Terrasson,  it  is  not  for  us 
to  take  up  the  glove  for  Azzo  and  Accursius,  or  to  censure  very 
severely  the  historian  who  omits  their  names  in  a  general  view 
of  the  progress  of  society.  Yet  Accursius  has  found  in  the 
first  of  elementary  writers  of  the  old  schoolt  a  champion  whose 

*Chap.  IX.  P.  II. 

tHeinecc.  Hist.  Jur.,  §  ccccxvii.  He  quotes  and  confirms  the  elaborate  pane- 
gyric of  Gravina  de  Ortu  et  Progr.  Jur.  Civ.  §  CLV. 


ORIGIN  OP  ROMAN  LEGISLATION*  503 

Zeal  is  equalled  only  by  his  prowess,  and  one  does  not  very 
readily  conceive  how  the  history  of  the  human  mind,  in  the 
middle  ages,  can  be  written  without  reference  to  a  branch  of 
study,  which,  in  its  double  form  of  civil  and  canon  law,  did, 
during  that  period,  more  than  all  others  put  together,  to  shape 
and  control  the  opinions  of  mankind.  But  when  that  writer 
goes  on  to  speak  of  the  schools  of  the  sixteenth  century,  and 
even  of  the  great  Cujacius  himself,  as  of  those  "whose  names,  or 
at  least  whose  writings,  are  rapidly  passing  to  the  gulf  that 
absorbed  their  predecessors" — and  still  more,  when  he  gravely 
assures  his  reader,  that  "the  stream  of  literature,  which  has  so 
remarkably  altered  its  channel  within  the  last  century,  (he  is 
writing  some  twenty  years  ago,)  has  left  no  region  more  deserted 
than  that  of  the  Civil  Law,"  he  must  pardon  us  for  doubting 
whether  he  is  the  best  of  all  possible  pilots  in  that  stream,  or  has 
explored  with  any  pains  the  particular  channel,  of  which  he 
speaks  with  such  flippant,  and,  as  it  happens,  erring  dogmatism* 
We  trust  we  are  not  insensible  to  the  real  claims  of  the  author 
of  the  "Constitutional  History  of  England,"  to  the  grateful  con- 
sideration of  statesmen,  as. well  as  of  scholars.  That  work,  al- 
though far,  in  our  judgment,  from  being  perfectly  satisfactory,  is 
still  a  respectable  one,  and  has,  to  a  certain  extent,  filled  a  void 
in  a  most  important  department  of  knowledge.  But  the  "His- 
tory of  the  Middle  Ages"  is  a  compilation,  as  superficial  as  it  is 
ambitious.  That  it  should  have  attained  to  a  certain  degree  of 
popularity  and  reputation  is,  in  the  present  condition  of  English 
literature,  unfortunately  not  to  be  wondered  at.  What  does, 
however,  we  confess,  seem  to  us  a  little  suprising,  is  the  extent 
of  the  ignorance — if  extent  can  be  predicated  of  such  a  negation- 
discovered  in  this  positive  announcement  of  the  end,  actual  or 
imminent,  of  all  study  of  the  civil  law,  by  a  contemporary  of 
Hugo  and  Savigny,  of  Niebuhr  and  Eichhorn,  of  Dirksen,  Schra- 
der,  Goschen,  and  a  host  of  other  names,  scarcely  less  shining 
than  these. 

Our  very  rubric,  if  we  stopped  there,  were  itself  a  refutation. 
We  could,  for  this  reason,  scarcely  resist  the  tempting  facility  of 
extending  it  much  farther.  We  had,  for  instance,  at  first  added 
to  it  the  other  six  volumes  that  make  up  the  complete  Civilistis- 
chev  Cursus  of  Hugo,  together  with  the  new  edition  of  the  Jus 
Civile  Anti-Justinianeum,  including  (what  had  been  omitted  by 
Schultingius)  the  whole  Theodosian  code,  published  at  Berlin  in 
1815,  by  a  society  of  Jurisconsults,  with  a  preface  and  index,  by 
that  learned  professor,  and  published  after  the  discovery  of 
Gaius,  with  additions  and  improvements,  in  1822-3.  Haubold's 
Lineamenta,  one  of  the  works  placed  at  the  head  of  this  article, 
would  have  supplied  us  with  materials  for  the  same  purpose, 
usque  ad  nauseam.     The  scheme  of  that  work  is  to  present,  in 


504  ORIGIN,  HISTORY  AND  INFLUENCE 

a  systematic  form,  the  outlines  of  a  course  of  lectures,  or  of  a 
comprehensive  treatise  upon  the  elements  and  the  progress  of  the 
civil  law,  with  references,  under  each  particular  head  of  doctrine 
or  history,  to  the  writers  by  whom  it  has  been  most  ably  treated, 
as  well  as  to  the  whole  body  of  collateral  and  subsidiary  litera- 
ture. {Apparatus  Litterarius.)  The  extent  of  reading,  thus 
displayed,  is  prodigious — the  volumes  of  "forgotten  teachers,' 
still  studied  by  a  learned  Jurisconsult,  are  innumerable — and  in 
a  science  condemned  by  Mr.  Hallam  to  such  speedy  oblivion,  it 
is  quite  inconceivable  what  a  monstrous  brood  of  this  vain  wis- 
dom and  false,  and  what  is  worse,  (if  he  is  right,)  most  perisha- 
ble philosophy,  has  been  brought  forth,  of  late,  as  if  in  spite  of 
his  prediction,  by  an  incessantly  teeming  press. 

The  truth  is  that,  at  no  former  period  was  there  ever  more 
ardor  and  activity  displayed  in  the  study  of  the  civil  law  on  the 
continent  of  Europe,  than  at  this  very  time.*  A  revival  in  it 
took  place  some  forty  or  fifty  years  ago,t  when  a  new  and  heal- 
thier taste  for  the  unique,  in  art  and  literature,  began  to  be  dif- 
fused. It  was  just  then  that  Hugo  first  rose  into  reputation  as 
a  professor.  The  editor  of  this  posthumous  edition  of  Haubold's 
outlines,^  in  his  preface,  speaks  of  it  as  a  return  of  the  age  of 
Cujas.  It  is  even  more  than  that.  The  great  jurisconsults  of 
the  present  day  to  equal  zeal  add  more  knowledge,  that  is,  more 
exact  and  available  knowledge,  a  penetration  more  refined  and 
distinguishing,  and,  above  all,  views  of  the  constitution  of  socie- 
ty, and  of  the  principles,  the  spirit,  and  the  influence  of  legisla- 
tion, incomparably  more  profound,  comprehensive,  and  practi- 
cal. Criticism  awoke  about  the  middle  of  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury, yet  Bentley  was  long  without  a  rival — and  Niebuhr  con- 
siders the  sagacity  of  Perizonius,  as  thrown  away  upon  an  age 
entirely  unworthy  of  it.§  The  example  and  the  lessons  of 
Heyne  and  Voss  have  filled  Germany  with  philologists,  who 
have  carried  into  every  department  of  thought  and  knowledge, 
but  especially  those  with  which  historical  criticism  has  any  con- 
nection, the  spirit  and  the  habits  of  enlightened,  searching,  and 
philosophical  inquiry.  Some  of  these  writers  are  really  great 
men.  Many  of  their  opinions — conjectural  at  best — may,  in 
the  progress  of  science,  be  qualified  or  refuted,  but  their  general 
views  are  characterized  by  too  much  comprehensiveness  and 
wisdom,  are  too  agreeable  to  the  analogies  of  society  and  human 
nature  in  all  ages,  to  pass  away  with  the  fashions  of  a  day. 

At  the  head  of  these  (absit  invidia)  stands  Niebuhr,  who,  we 
acknowledge,  is,  with  us,  an  object  of  most  profound  homage. 

*  Cooper.    Lettres  sur  la  Chancellerie  d'Angleterre,  &e.  p.  480.    (Ed.  Brux- 
elles,  1830.) 
+  Eichhorn,  Deutsche  Staats  and  Rechts  Geschichte,  Einleitung,  p.  27. 
I  Professor  Otto  of  Leipsic. 
§  Romische  Geschichte,  Vorrede,  VIII.    (Edit.  1833.) 


OP  ROMAN  LEGISLATION.  505 

We  have  studied  his  work,  as  he  asks  that  it  shall  be  studied, 
and  as  he  professes  to  have  written  it,  conscientiously,  and  with 
perfect  freedom  from  all  prejudice ;  and  the  result  is  that,  even 
in  the  rare  cases  in  which  we  do  not  share  his  conviction,  we 
feel  the  force  of  his  reasoning,  and  admire  the  depth  and  sober- 
ness of  his  views.  To  call  him  the  first  of  philologists  is  to  do 
him  but  very  inadequate  justice.  No  such  mind  was  ever  pro- 
duced by  a  mere  scholastic  education.  Uniting  the  qualities  of 
Bentley  to  those  of  Montesquieu — when  Montesquieu  is  not 
sacrificing  his  wisdom  to  his  wit — but,  with  the  additional  ad- 
vantages which  both  would  have  derived  from  the  unspeakably 
instructive  experience  of  the  last  sixty  years,  his  pages  chal- 
lenge, and  will  reward,  the  meditation  of  the  philosophic  public- 
ist. We  ascribe  to  him  the  honor  of  having  brought  about  a 
revolution — for  it  was  nothing  less — in  the  history  of  public 
law.  He  was,  we  believe,  the  first  to  lay  his  hand  upon  that 
key  of.  the  Past — the  effect  of  races  upon  the  revolutions  of  so- 
ciety, and  the  character  of  governments — of  which  Thierry 
has  since  made  so  striking  an  application  in  his  History  of  the 
Norman  Conquest,  and  his  Letters  on  the  History  of  France. 
It  is  not  for  his  doubts,  as  some  seem  to  think,  but  for  his  disco- 
veries, that  he  is  entitled  to  the  thanks  and  admiration  of  the 
learned — not  for  what  he  has  done  to  discredit  the  magnificent 
romance  of  Livy,  (for  the  barren  scepticism  of  Beaufort  was 
equal  to  that,)  but  for  what  only  such  a  combination,  as  has 
scarcely  ever  been  seen  in  any  single  individual,  of  immense 
erudition,  unwearied  industry,  and  incessant  vigilance  of  re- 
search, with  matchless  critical  sagacity,  could  have  enabled  him 
to  accomplish,  towards  explaining  what  was  obscure,  reconci- 
ling what  was  contradictory,  completing. what  was  defective,  and 
correcting — often  out  of  his  own  mouth — what  was  mistaken, 
or  misstated,  in  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus.  His  examination 
of  this  writer,  for  the  most  part  the  only  witness  we  have  to 
vouch  for  the  antiquities  of  Rome,  is  a  master-piece  of  its  kind, 
and  rivals  the  highest  acumen  and  address  of  the  bar.  He  sees 
intuitively  when  his  author  tells  the  truth,  as  sometimes  happens, 
without  knowing  it,  or  knows  the  truth  without  telling  it.  He 
has  an  infallible  instinct,  in  divining  what  is  half  revealed  in  a 
corrupt  text,  or  in  making  an  intelligible  and  consistent  whole 
out  of  fragments  separately  dark,  or  not  apparently  related  to 
one  another.  His  conjectural  emendations  and  reasonings  a  pri- 
ori, always  cautious,  are  rendered  sure  by  his  habitually  pa- 
tient and  comprehensive  inductions,  and  the  immense  command 
of  analogy  and  illustration  with  which  his  various  knowledge 
supplies  him.  Enabled  by  such  means  to  anticipate  what  the 
truth  ought  to  be,  he  detects  it  in  the  most  blundering  or  per- 
verted statement,  turns  to  account  every  casual  and  distant  hint, 
vol.  i. — 64 


506  ORIGIN,  HISTORY  AND    INFLUENCE 

and  attaches  to  words  uttered  in  one  sense  by  the  writer,  a 
meaning  entirely  different  from  his  own,  yet  more  probable  in 
itself,  and  serving,  perhaps,  to  clear  up  parts  of  his  narrative, 
otherwise  incongruous  or  unintelligible.  It  is  not,  we  repeat  it, 
the  negative  but  the  positive  part  of  his  work  that  entitles  it  to 
its  great  reputation.  It  is  a  mighty  creation,  or  if  we  may  bor- 
row a  thought  from  an  old  writer,  it  is  more,  it  is  raising  the 
dead.  Niebuhr,  himself,  compares  the  task  of  the  philologist  in 
this  restoration,  or  anamorphosis  of  the  history  of  the  past,  to  that 
of  the  naturalist  gathering  and  putting  together  the  fossil  bones 
of  a  lost  species  of  animal.*  It  is  thus  that  he  has  rebuilt,  with 
fragments  picked  up  here  and  there  where  they  lay  scattered 
about,  as  by  a  tempest,  over  the  whole  surface  of  ancient  litera- 
ture, the  sacerdotal  and  patrician  City  of  the  Kings,  in  its  old 
Cyclopean  strength  and  massiveness,  and  the  awful  forms  of 
Tuscan  mystery  and  superstition.  It  is  thus  that  you  are  made 
to  see  the  Eternal  City,  already  with  her  triple  crown — not 
mystical — of  gentes — three  privileged  tribes  of  various  origin, 
greater  and  lesser — incorporated  successively  into  one  people, 
and  constituting,  in  legal  contemplation  before  the  legislation 
of  Servius  Tullius,  the  whole  people — while  the  noble  plebs, 
the  city  of  Ancus  Martius,  the  people  of  the  Aventine,  never 
equalled  by  any  other  but  the  commons  of  England,  excluded 
from  the  rights  of  citizenship,  is,  for  centuries  together,  fighting 
its  way,  like  the  Saxons  under  their  Norman  lords,  into  the  pale 
of  the  constitution,  and  a  full  participation  in  its  benefits.  Never 
was  more  laborious  and  patient  learning  tasked  to  supply  mate- 
rials for  the  conception  of  genius,  and  the  conclusions  of  philo- 
sophy, and  never  were  such  materials  wrought  by  the  hand  of 
genius  and  philosophy  into  a  more  solid  and  stately  fabric. 

If  Niebuhr  had  done  nothing  but  rebuild  the  ancient  city,  and 
reveal,  for  the  first  time,  to  the  light  of  history — of  that  history 
of  the  life  and  forms  of  a  community  which  may  so  long  precede, 
as  he  well  remarks,  all  knowledge  of  individuals — the  "buried 
majesty"  of  Rome,  he  had  rendered  an  immense  service.  The 
Kings  lived  with  honor  in  the  traditions  of  the  republic ;  each  of 
them  was  the  personification  of  some  commanding  or  venerable 
attribute ;  war,  religion,  legislation,  conquest,  heroic  virtues,  some- 
times heroic  crimes,  were  ascribed  to  them  in  the  popular  legends. 
Servius  Tullius.  especially,  identified  with  a  revolution  so  fa- 
vorable to  the  classes  lying  under  political  disabilities,  as  to  pro- 
duce, by  its  very  excess,  a  reaction,  followed  by  two  centuries  of 
perpetual  struggle  and  contention  to  overcome  it — made  a  great 
figure  in  their  Romancero.t     To  write  the  history  of  this  period 

*  It.  G.  B.  III.  135. 

+  See  the  almost  demagogical  harangue  put  into  his  mouth  by  Dionysius,  1. 
IV.  c.  8.  [Cf.  CujaeiiObscrvat.  1.  111.  c.  2.J 


OP  ROMAN  LEGISLATION.  507 

was  to  explain  that  of  the  following,  as  on  the  contrary,  the 
history  of  the  following  period  confirms,  by  conformity,  Nie- 
buhr's  views  of  this.  His  theory  accounts  for  the  phenomena, 
and  is  the  only  one  that  will  do  so.  For  two  centuries  and  a 
half  the  people  lived  under  the  influence  and  the  discipline  of 
a  patriarchal  and  limited  monarchy,  or  Archonship  :  the  national 
character  was  formed, — the  great  outlines  of  the  constitution 
were  traced, — the  spirit  of  the  laws,  and,  no  doubt,  most  of  their 
particular  provisions,  as  they  were  afterwards  recorded  in  the 
XII  Tables,  were  developed  and  settled, — in  short,  the  future 
destinies  of  Rome  may  be  said  to  have  been  already  decided 
at  the  expulsion  of  the  Tarquins.  The  Kings  had  governed 
strenuously ;  they  had  waged  many  and  successful  wars  ;  and 
their  grandeur  is  still  attested  by  works  unrivalled,  even  by  those 
of  the  Caesars.*  Nothing  could  be  more  justly  the  subject  of  re- 
gret, than  the  absence  of  all  clear  historical  light  (and  satisfacto- 
ry, though  but  conjectural)  on  so  interesting  and  critical  a  period 
of  Roman  annals.  The  childhood  and  youth  of  the  heroic  city, 
like  those  of  Mahomet,  were  hidden  from  our  view,  and  lost  to  the 
purposes  of  instruction,  and  nothing  but  what  was  fabulous  and 
distorted  was  known  of  her,  until  she  sprang  forth  from  behind 
this  veil  of  myths,  full-grown  and  ready  armed  for  the  fulfilment 
of  her  great  mission,  the  conquest,  the  civilization,  and,  ultimate- 
ly, the  conversion  of  the  world.  By  his  account  of  the  three  dif- 
ferent races  which  form  this  people,  and  especially  of  the  connec- 
tion with  Tuscany — of  the  corporate  existence,  and  exclusive  priv- 
ileges of  the  gentes,  under  a  senate  made  up  of  their  chiefs,  and 
a  president  elected  for  life  (the  King) — of  the  somewhat  undefin- 
ed, but  certainly  intimate  and  controlling  relation  of  the  patron 
to  his  clients,  retainers  of  the  patricians  to  be  carefully  distin- 
guished from  the  plebs — of  the  peculiar  characteristics  of  that 
plebs,  the  whole  infantry  of  the  legion,  led  by  the  Sicinii  and  the 
Icilii,  men  as  noble  as  the  Claudii  or  the  Quinctii,  who  denied 
them,  through  constitutional  disabilities,  the  fruits  of  their  valor — 
of  the  nexi,  the  ager  publicus,  the  usury  laws,  and  the  influ- 
ence, so  inconceivably  important,  of  the  Augur  and  the  Pontiff, 
the  auspices  and  the  calendar,!  we  have  problem  after  problem 
of  Roman  history  and  legislation,  solved  in  the  most  natural  and 
satisfactory  manner.*  Freed  from  the  shallow  and  delusive  com- 
mon-places of  monarchy  and  republic,  of  aristocracy  and  democ- 
racy, of  positive  legislation,  and  governments  arbitrarily  adopt- 
ed— ideas  and  language  of  what  was  called  the  philosophy  of  the 

*  Dionys.  III.  67.  [The  Capitol.  Tac.  Hist.  3.  72.  j 

t  See  the  speech  of  App.  Claudius  against  opening  the  consulship  to  the  Plebs, 
on  the  single  ground  that  they  had  no  auspices.  Liv.  VI.  41. 

t  The  coincidence  of  our  own  opinions  on  the  subject  of  Niebuhr's  services 
with  those  of  such  a  writer  as  Schlosser,  not  a  little  confirms  our  conviction  of 
their  justness.  See  his  admirable  Geschichte  der  Alten  Welt,  Th.  II.  abth.  I.  C. 
2.  pp.  253,  and  especially  284,  note  f.  (edit.  Frankfort,  1828). 


f>OR  ORTCTN,  HISTORY  AND    INFLUENCE 

eighteenth  century,  indiscriminately  and  absurdly  applied  to  the 
institutions  of  all  others — we  now  see  the  mixed  constitution  of 
Rome  rationally,  that  is  to  say,  historically  accounted  for.  We 
see  it,  like  that  of  England,  under  circumstances  strikingly  sim- 
ilar, developing  itself  through  perpetual  (though  not,  as  in  the 
case  of  England,  bloody)  conflicts,  and  successive  compromises, 
between  diiferent,  yet  kindred,  nations*  inhabiting  the  same 
territory,  without  being  members  of  the  same  commonwealth — 
the  minority  in  possession  of  the  state  continually  yielding  some- 
thing to  their  determined,  persevering,  multiplying,  and  yet  sin- 
gularly potent  and  moderate  adversaries,  until  they  are  melted 
into  one  body  politic  and  one  people.  These  struggles  were  a 
discipline  that  fashioned  both  parties  to  stern  virtues,  and  an  ex- 
citement that  stimulated  them  to  heroic  exertion.  They  were 
struggles  for  law  and  justice — for  constitutional  privilege  on  the 
one  side,  and  for  natural  rights  on  the  other.  In  such  a  school, 
the  great  legislators  and  conquerors  of  the  world  might  well  be 
trained,  and  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus  has  not  failed  to  embel- 
lish his  account  of  contests  so  fruitful  of  good,  with  discussions 
of  public  law,  in  orations  imputed  to  the  great  names  of  those 
times,  profound  and  elaborate  enough  to  satisfy  a  Greek,  a  phi- 
losopher, and  a  rhetorician  of  the  age  of  Augustus. 

It  is  not,  therefore,  to  be  wondered  at,  that  Hugo,  among  the 
advantages  which  he  mentions  as  calculated  to  animate  the  zeal 
of  the  civilian  in  the  present  times,  should  give  a  decided  promi- 
nency to  Niebuhr's  history.f  But  the  other  helps  to  a  more  ac- 
curate knowledge  of  the  Roman  law,  than  it  was  possible  to  ac- 
quire a  century  ago,  are  neither  few  nor  inconsiderable.  Nie- 
buhr  himself  seems  to  regard  it  as  a  sort  of  special  providence  for 
the  success  of  philology  in  this  age,  that,  just  as  a  new  spirit  of 
inquiry  had  been  awakened,  the  discovery  of  Cicero's  republic, 
and  of  the  real  Gaius,  should  have  occurred  to  excite  and  to  aid 
it  in  its  enterprises.  But  here,  as  in  so  many  other  analogous 
cases,  it  is  difficult  to  say  whether  this  discovery  stands  in  the 
relation  of  cause  or  effect  to  the  zeal  which  it  furnishes  so  oppor- 
tunely with  a  powerful  instrument.  It  is  now  very  well  settled 
that  the  Florentine  copy  of  the  Pandects  had  nothing  to  do  with 
the  revival  of  the  study  of  the  Roman  law,  however  effective  it 
was  in  promoting  its  progress ;  but.  on  the  contrary,  nothing 
seems  to  us  more  probable  than  that  the  revival  of  that  study  was 
the  means  of  bringing  to  light  and  preserving  this  solitary  and  pre- 
cious manuscript.  It  is  not  at  all  surprising  that  a  new  school  of 
philology,  pronouncing  the  knowledge  of  Antiquity  still  in  its 

*  Ta  ii&vr,  is  the  very  expression  of  Dionysius,  X.  60.  Speaking  of  the  pro- 
hibition of  mixed  marriages  in  the  two  last  Tables  of  the  Decemvirs. 

t  P.  55.  Yet  Hugo  seems  to  us,  more  than  once  in  the  course  of  this  work,  to 
"hint  a  fault,  and,  without  sneering,  teach  the  rest  to  sneer,"  when  he  speaks  of 
Niebuhr's  ideas  as  more  approved  by  jurisconsults  than  by  historians,  p.  5G. 


OF  ROMAN  LEGISLATION.  509 

infancy,*  examining  dc  novo  all  the  evidence  in  relation  to  it,  col- 
lating more  carefully  than  ever  the  manuscripts  of  classical  au- 
thors, and  publishing  editions  of  them  so  emended  as  almost  en- 
tirely to  supersede  the  old,t  should  have  found  such  a  collabora- 
tor as  Mai,  or  that  Mai  should  not  have  sought  in  vain,  among 
the  improvements  of  modern  chemistry,  for  means  to  disinter  (so 
to  express  it)  from  the  Palimpsest  the  precious  remains  of  ancient 
genius.  Cicero's  Republic  is  by  no  means  the  only  conquest  of 
the  kind  which  the  learned  world  owes  to  the  celebrated  libra- 
rian of  the  Vatican.  His  palimpsests  of  Ulpian  and  other  writers 
are  frequently  quoted  by  Hugo,  in  the  course  of  this  work ;  but 
a  still  more  important  accession,  in  the  opinion  of  that  writer,  to 
the  resources  of  the  philologist,  are  the  Turin  leaves  of  the  The- 
odosian  code,  published  by  Peyron  some  fifteen  or  sixteeen  years 
ago.  Without  referring  to  other  discoveries  mentioned  by  the 
same  author,  (pp.  21,  23,)  it  is  sufficient  to  add  that,  what  with 
new  readings  of  old  books  and  the  acquisition  of  new  ones,  and 
what  with  a  deeper  study  and  more  critical  examination  of  those 
long  in  the  possession  of  civilians,  an  entirely  new  aspect  has 
been  given  to' the  study  of  the  Roman  law.  Hugo  quotes  a  let- 
ter from  a  friend,  (p.  75,)  in  which,  congratulating  the  present 
generation  upon  the  change,  he  declares,  that  he  had  taken  his 
degree  of  Doctor,  before  he  knew  who  Gaius  or  Ulpian  was — 
writers  now  familiar  to  all  his  hearers ;  and  Hugo  confesses  as 
much  of  himself,  in  regard  to  Ulpian  and  Theophilus.  Our  own 
experience,  fortunately  for  us,  is  not  quite  so  extensive,  and  yet 
it  is  difficult  to  imagine  a  greater  contrast  than  that  which  pre- 
sents itself  to  us,  in  comparing  this  Lehr-Buch  of  Gottingen  lec- 
turer, with  what  we  remember  was  the  course  of  professor  of  the 
Civil  Law  in  the  University  of  Edinburgh,  just  twenty  years 
ago.  One  who  was  initiated  into  this  study,  as  we  happened  to 
be,  under  the  old  plan  of  the  eighteenth  century,  with  Heineccius 
for  a  guide,  will  find  himself  in  the  schools  of  the  present  day,  in 
almost  another  world — new  doctrines^  new  history,  new  meth- 
ods, new  text-books,  and,  above  all,  new  views  and  a  new  spirit. 
In  the  preface  to  the  first  volume  of  this  Course — the  Lehr- 
Buch  of  a  Juridical  Encyclopedia — Hugo  carries  his  reminis- 
cences back  to  1782.  He  made  his  debut,  however,  as  an  author, 
in  1789,  by  translating  into  German,  Gibbon's  44th  chapter,  in 
which  that  great  master  has  contrived  to  condense  into  a  few 
pages,  a  comprehensive,  and,  to  the  general  reader,  satisfactory 
account  of  the  history,  the  principles,  and  even  the  spirit  of  the 
Roman  law.§     The  year  afterwards  he  put  forth  a  publication, 

*  Boeckh.  Staats  Haushaltung  der  Athener. 

t  Bekkers. 

X  Hugo  gives  a  list  of  them,  p.  57,  note. 

§  Gibbon  is  one  of  the  very  few  historical  writers  of  the  eighteenth  century,  who 


510  ORIGIN,  HISTORY  AND    INFLUENCE 

which  he  treats  as  the  germ  of  the  work  at  the  head  of  this  pa- 
per, and  which  has  been  since  gradually  expanding,  through 
eleven  successive  editions,  into  its  present  form.  Its  title,  when 
given  to  the  world  in  1790,  was  "a  Lehr-Buch"  of  the  history  of 
the  law  up  to  our  time,  and  contained  only  170  or  180  pages. 
It  is  now  a  goodly  tome,  indexes  and  all  included,  of  upward  of 
1200.  We  have  read,  with  a  melancholy  interest,  the  remarks 
which,  in  the  preface  just  referred  to,  the  author  makes  in  refer- 
ence to  his  past  successes  and  his  present  situation.  His  lecture- 
room,  a  few  years  ago  too  small  to  contain  his  pupils,  was  in 
1833-4  comparatively  deserted.  His  books,  once  bought  up  as 
soon  as  they  were  published,  are,  it  seems,  no  longer  very  much 
in  demand.  For  the  decay  of  his  popularity  as  a  professor,  he 
confesses,  with  a  touching  simplicity,  that  the  infirmities  of  age 
may,  in  some  measure,  account.  But  in  publishing,  as  he  in- 
forms us,  his  fortieth  Lehr-Buch,  and  as  he  has  chosen  to  de- 
clare his  last,  he  is  at  a  loss  to  imagine  why  many  more  should 
not  be  called  for  by  the  reading  public,  who  cannot,  like  his 
pupils,  be  affected  by  the  dulness  of  his  hearing,  or  the  dimness 
of  his  sight.  In  what  he  has  said  of  Gottingen's  no  longer  giv- 
ing the  tone  in  legal  studies,  and  the  preference  elsewhere  mani- 
fested for  the  system  of  "Outlines,"  (such  as  Haubold's)  over 
that  of  Lehr  books,  he  has  revealed  to  us  at  least  one  very  pow- 
erful cause  of  the  change.  We  have  found  another  in  the  style 
of  this  work  itself.  It  is  thoroughly  detestable — as  bad  as  bad  can 
be  in  a  didactic,  and  especially  an  elementary  work — involved, 
obscure,  parenthetical,  "cycle  and  epicycle,  orb  in  orb."  There 
are  sentences  on  important  and  difficult  points,  requiring  the  ut- 
most possible  precision  and  clearness,  which  run  down  a  whole 
page,  winding  their  almost  invisible  course  through  capes  and 
shoals  of  qualifications,  exceptions,  obiter  dicta,  and  so  forth,  that 
are  absolutely  distracting,  to  a  foreigner  at  least.  Some  of  these 
vices  are,  perhaps,  inherent  in  the  very  nature  of  a  Lehr -buck, 
which  is  something  between  a  book  and  a  brief,  meant  to  serve 
for  a  text  to  lecture  from  in  universities ;  but  we  suspect  that  this 
most  profound  of  jurisconsults  is  not  the  most  eloquent,  and  that, 
since  nothing  more  of  novelty  is  to  be  expected  from  one  whose 
doctrines  have  been  so  fully  given  to  the  world,  students  natu- 
rally seek  those  by  whom  they  may  hope  to  find  new  ideas 
broached,  or  old  ones  embellished.  Besides,  the  veteran  profes- 
sor must  not  forget  that  the  lessons  which  he  has  successfully 
taught,  are  become  the  arms  of  rivals  in  the  hands  of  his  pupils, 
and  that  the  maxim  of  Napoleon,  that  it  is  given  to  no  general 
to  make  war  prosperously  beyond  a  certain  number  of  years,  is 

have  stood  before  the  criticism  of  the  nineteenth.  Niebuhr  acknowledges  "the 
Decline  and  Fall"  as  auch  fur  den  Philologen  cin  herrliches  Meister-Work.— 
Vorrede  to  R.  G.  IX. 


OF  ROMAN  LEGISLATION.  511 

only  a  recognition  of  the  inexorable  law  of  succession  and  equal- 
ity among  the  generations  of  men. 

Solve  senescentem  mature  sanus  equum,  ne 
Peccet  ad  extremum  ridendus. 

He  has  lived,  too,  through  a  period  which,  more  than  any  that 
ever  preceded  it,  has  been,  as  we  have  seen,  one  of  progress  in 
his  particular  pursuit.  That  he  has  greatly  contributed  to  pro- 
mote that  progress — that  he  has  been,  in  some  sort,  the  harbinger 
of  a  new  era — that  the  great  men,  whose  more  recent  glory  has 
eclipsed  his  own,  were  many  of  them  brought  up  at  his  feet  and 
all  of  them  enlightened  by  his  wisdom — is  a  distinction  which 
cannot  be  denied,  and  ought  to  satisfy  him. 

As  we  confine  ourselves,  in  this  paper,  as  much  as  possible,  to 
the  history  and  character  of  Roman  legislation,  and  the  study  of 
(he  civil  law,  we  will  say  little  of  the  first  and  second  volumes 
of  Hugo's  "Cursus,"  one  of  which,  as  we  have  already  had  occa- 
sion to  observe,  is  only  a  sketch  of  a  juridical  Encyclopedia. 
The  other  is  much  more  interesting,  being  a  Lehr-Buch  of  na- 
tural law,  in,  which  an  attempt  is  made  to  produce  something, 
in  that  kind,  that  shall  not  be  liable  to  the  objections  made,  by 
Bacon  and  Leibnitz,  to  the  old  way  of  treating  this  subject.  In 
this  work  he  has  embodied  certain  principles  of  political  philoso- 
phy which  all  will  admit  to  be  bold,  and  some  may  pronounce 
paradoxical.  The  great  dogma,  for  example,  of  the  historical 
school,  that,  in  the  matter  of  government,  "whatever  is,  is  right," 
for  the  time  being,  and  nothing  so  for  all  times ;  that  positive  in- 
stitutions are  merely  provisional ;  and  that  every  people  has, 
ipso  facto,  precisely  those  which  are  best  adapted  to  its  charac- 
ter and  condition.*  We  recognise  in  these  doctrines  a  great  fun- 
damental truth,  without  a  distinct  perception  of  which,  history 
becomes  a  riddle,  and  government  impossible;  but  it  is* easily 
pushed  to  extravagance,  and  we  are  not  sure  that  Hugo  and  his 
school  have  not  given  to  it  too  much  the  color  of  a  dark  and  li- 
centious fatalism.  His  idea,  too,  of  the  boundaries  between  the 
jus  publicum  and  the  jus  privatum,  savors  far  too  strongly  of 
the  despotism  of  Dorian  legislation  for  our  tastes.  We  are  for 
making  private  property  as  exclusively  as  possible  an  affair  of 
meum  and  tuum,  and,  in  the  spirit  of  our  own  constitution, 
would  lean,  in  all  imaginable  circumstances,  in  favor  of  main- 
taining its  sanctity  inviolate,  against  the  pretended  claims  of 
.state  necessity,  or  the  indefeasible  sovereign  power  of  society. 

We  have  frequently,  in  the  course  of  the  preceding  remarks, 
had  occasion  to  mention  the  discovery  of  the  real  Gaius  as  an 
event  of  the  highest  importance  to  the  study  of  the  civil  law. 
We  owe  this  accession  to  our  literary  treasures  to  the  same  great 

*  Civ.  Curs.  I.  pp.  313-315. 


512  ORIGIN,  HISTORY  AND    INFLUENCE 

man,  whose  work  on  the  early  history  of  Rome  had  already 
done  so  much  for  philology,  Niebuhr.  It  was  fitting  that  he 
who  had  made  the  best  use  of  the  old  materials  should  have  the 
honor  of  making  by  far  the  most  precious  addition  to  them.  This 
palimpsest,  (the  darkest  and  most  perplexed  of  any,)  was  found 
by  him  at  Verona,  in  1816,  and  deciphered,  says  Hugo,  by  Gos- 
chen,  and  Bethmann  Holweg,  with  admirable  success,  in  1S17. 
The  existence  of  some  such  manuscript,  at  no  very  remote  period, 
had  long  been  suspected.  Bynkershoeck,  in  his  treatise  de  Reims 
Mancipi*  after  quoting  the  passage  of  Gaius  preserved  by  Boe- 
thius,  in  which  mancipatio  is  defined,  treats  as  erroneous  the 
common  impression  that  that  fragment,  together  with  another,  de 
Jure  Cessione,  (neither  of  which  was  to  be  found  in  the  Gothic 
abridgment,)  existed  only  in  Boethius,  and  goes  on  to  state  that 
he  had  recently  read  a  treatise  by  Cynus,  in  which  those  very 
fragments  are  cited,  on  the  authority  of  P.  J.  de  Ravini,  as  having 
been  copied  out  of  Gaius  by  him.  Schultingius,  to  whom  Bynker- 
shoeck pointed  out  this  curious  passage,  made  very  light  of  the 
allegation  of  the  aforesaid  Ravini,  but  Bynkershoeck  himself  saw 
no  reason  for  doubting  it,  and  Heineccius  subsequently  assented 
to  that  opinion,  and  assertst  or  intimates  the  probability  that  a 
complete  copy  of  Gains  was  extant  in  the  fourteenth  century, 
when  Ravini  flourished.  Be  that  as  it  may,  no  search  was  at  that 
time  instituted,  and  it  was  only  within  the  last  twelve  years  that 
civilians  have  enjoyed  the  light  shed  from  this  source  on  many 
dark  or  doubtful  points,  especially  in  the  history  of  the  law  so 
imperfectly  written  by  Pomponius.t  As  to  Gaius  himself,  every 
thing  had  conspired  to  awaken  the  liveliest  curiosity  in  regard 
to  him.  Just  a  century  before  Justinian  undertook  his  compila- 
tion, (A.  D.  426,)  Theodosius  the  younger,  and  Valentinian,  in 
order  to  correct,  in  some  measure,  the  confusion  arising  out  of  a 
vast  multiplicity  of  laws,  and  to  introduce  into  the  administration 
of  justice,  then  in  a  deplorable  condition,  the  science  of  a  more  for- 
tunate era,  addressed  to  the  "Senate  of  the  city  of  Rome"  an  Im- 
perial Constitution,  by  which  it  was  ordained  that  the  judges 
should  be  bound  by  the  opinions  of  five  illustrious  jurisconsults 
of  an  earlier  age,  Papinian,  Paullus,  Gaius,  Ulpian,  and  Modesti- 
nus  ;  that,  if  there  were  any  difference  in  their  opinions,  those  of  a 
majority  should  prevail ;  and  that,  in  case  of  equality  of  voices, 
that  should  be  ruled  to  be  law  which  Papinian  should  have  pro- 
nounced to  be  so.§  We  shall  say  nothing  here  of  the  other 
names  honored  by  this  singular  constitution,  a  more  suitable 
opportunity  for  doing  so  may  hereafter  present  itself;  but  the 

*  Opuscul.  Varia,  107. 

t  Histor.  Jur.  §  CCCXIV. 

I  D.  1. 1.  Tit.  II. 

§  Cod.  Theodosian :  1.  1.  Tit.  IV.    Se  Responsis  Prudentum. 


OF  ROMAN  LEGISLATION.  513 

Gains  thus  distinguished  was  no  other  than  he  whose  Institutes, 
or,  as  they  are  described  in  the  work  itself,  " Institutionum  Com- 
mentarii"  are  named  in  our  rubric,  and  have  been  the  subject  of 
our  previous  remarks.  This,  however,  though  an  extraordinary, 
was  by  no  means  a  solitary  distinction.  Throughout  the  insti- 
tutes of  Justinian,  Gaius  is  often  referred  to,  and  the  epithet  of 
"noster"  which  always  accompanies  his  name,  and  which  led 
some  to  think  him  a  contemporary  of  Justinian,  is  now  clearly 
proved  to  express  merely  the  very  free  use  made  of  his  work, 
in  that  of  Tribonian,  Theophilus,  and  Dorotheus.  The  com- 
missioners of  Justinian  are  found  to  have  largely  adopted  the  lan- 
guage, together  with  the  arrangement  of  Gaius;  but  this  fact  was 
not  known,  for  they  had  taken  no  pains  to  distinguish  what  they 
had  borrowed  from  him,  from  what  they  had  added  of  their  own, 
nor  indeed  had  they  given  us  any  reason  at  all  to  imagine  the 
extent  of  their  obligations  to  him.  Another  compilation,  how- 
ever, made  a  few  years  before,  (A.  D.  506)  in  quite  a  different 
quarter,  purported  to  contain — along  with  copious  extracts  from 
Ulpian,  and  five  books  of  the  Sentential  Receptee,  of  Paullus, 
with  abridgments  of  the  Gregorian,  Hermogenian,  and  Theo- 
dosian  codes,  &c.  &c. — an  epitome  in  two  books  of  the  Institutes 
,of  Gaius.  This  is  the  "Gothic  Gaius,"  as  contradistinguished 
from  the  real  Gaius  discovered  at  Verona.  The  epithet  of  Gothic 
belongs  to  this  collection  as  made  under  the  auspices  of  Alaric 
II.  king  of  the  Visigoths,  at  that  time  established  in  Gallia  Nar- 
bonensis,  the  very  year  before  his  defeat  by  Clovis.  It  was  the 
policy  of  the  Teutonic  barbarians  to  govern  their  Roman  sub- 
jects by  the  Roman  law.*  This  personal,  instead  of  a  territorial 
jurisdiction,  was  a  novelty  in  the  history  of  nations ;  it  served 
at  once  to  mitigate  the  severities  of  conquest,  and  to  hasten 
the  union  of  the  races  under  a  new  civilization  ;  and  nowhere 
were  the  effects  of  this  policy  more  striking  than  in  the  south  of 
France,  where  the  foundation  of  the  titular  kingdom  of  Aries, 
in  the  ninth  century,  the  early  formation  of  the  provencal  dialect, 
and  the  existence  up  to  the  time  of  the  Revolution,  of  a  pays  de 
droit  ecrit,  attest,  in  the  most  unequivocal  manner,  the  influence 
of  Roman  legislation,  and  the  Latin  language.  This  compila- 
tion of  Alaric  was  sometimes  called  the  Breviarium  Alaricianum, 
and  sometimes  bore  the  more  pompous  title  of  Lex  Romana, 
with  or  without  the  addition  of  Visigothorum.  We  owe  to  it,  it 
is  probable,  the  present  mutilated  condition  of  the  Theodosian 
code,  which  ceased  to  be  copied  in  its  integrity,  because  this 
abridgment,  especially  after  the  legislation  of  Justinian,  answer- 
ed practically  the  same   purpose.     But  to  confine  our  observa- 

*  Among  the  texts  to  be  found  in  the  Corpus  Juris  Germanici  Antiqui,  to  that 
effect,  one  of  the  most  striking  is  in  the  laws  of  Lothaire  I.  (XXXVII.)  at  page 
1224  ol  that  collection. 

vol.  i. — 65 


514  ORIGIN,  HISTORY  AND    INFLUENCE 

tions  to  what  relates  to  our  particular  subject — Gaius  is  deformed 
in  it,  as  Oiselius  expresses  it,  to  suit  the  tastes  or  the  wants  of  a 
barbarous  period.  The  epitome  in  two  books  contains  some 
twenty  or  thirty  pages,  octavo,  in  the  Berlin  edition,  (omitting 
the  notes,)  and  deviates  so  entirely  from  the  language  of  the 
author,  that  it  would  be  impossible  for  him  to  recognise  in  it 
any  resemblance  or  approach  to  his  own  work.  Yet,  imperfect 
as  it  was  in  itself,  this  breviary  had  its  mission,  a  high  and 
important  one,  and  it  was  fulfilled.  Of  this,  however,  we  shall 
have  more  to  say  when  we  corne,  (as  we  trust  we  shall,)  on 
some  future  occasion,  to  speak  of  what  M.  de  Savigny  has  done 
for  the  history  of  the  civil  law  in  the  middle  ages. 

The  discovery  of  Gains,  we  have  said,  is  highly  important 
with  a  view  to  the  history  of  Roman  jurisprudence.  It  is  an  ex- 
cellent remark  of  Hugo's,*  that,  in  a  system  of  law,  half  of  what 
is  scientific,  as  contradistinguished  from  what  is  immediately 
practical  and  so  quite  mechanical,  belongs  to  its  history,  andean 
be  learned  only  through  it.  It  is,  however,  just  this  part  of  ju- 
risprudence, which  alone  reveals  its  true  spirit  without  which 
the  most  important  statutes  are  scarcely  intelligible,  and  the  great- 
est causes  are  but  imperfectly  argued,  that  is  uniformly  neglect- 
ed in  what  they  publish,  by  those  best  fitted  to  do  justice  to  it, 
leading  advocates  and  learned  judges,  the  sages  and  oracles  of 
the  profession.  It  is  so  with  our  own  common  law  ;  it  was  so  in 
quite  as  remarkable  a  degree  with  the  civil  law.  We  have  al- 
ready adverted  to  the  meagre  outline  of  Pomponius  embodied  in 
the  Digest.  There  were  few  other  fragments  that  might  aid  in 
supplying  what  was  defective  in  that.  The  volume  before  us 
has  added  greatly  to  our  stock  of  information  in  this  particular. 
It  is  an  exposition — occasionally,  though  not  often,  with  a  retro- 
spective glance  at  what  the  law  had  been — of  the  elements  of  the 
law  as  it  then  stood.  It  is  the  work  of  one  of  the  most  illustri- 
ous of  the  Roman  Jurisconsults  in  the  palmy  day  of  the  science, 
the  age  of  the  Antonines,  just  bordering  on  that  of  the  Severi. 
Gaius  was  a  contemporary  of  Q.  Cervidius  Scaevola.  the  master 
of  Papinian.  His  work,  besides,  has  been  adopted  by  Justinian 
as  the  basis  of  his  own  Institutes.  The  difference,  therefore, 
between  the  original  text  and  the  text  thus  adapted  to  the  purpo- 
ses of  education  in  the  sixth  century,  is  all  history.  Now  it  bap- 
pens  that  this  difference  is  very  wide.  Justinian  was  a  mighty 
innovator — we  admit,  in  one  sense,  a  great  reformer — but  at  any 
rate  a  mighty  innovator.  Those  changes  extend  to  every  part 
of  the  whole  body  of  jurisprudence — to  its  most  important  provis- 
ionsits,  most  pervading  principles,  its  most  characteristic  features, 
its  genius,  its  maxims,  and  its  policy.  And  this  leads  us  to  remark 
what  struck  us  the  most  forcibly  in  reading  Gaius,  title  by  titleT 

*  Introduction. 


OP  ROMAN  LEGISLATION.  515 

with  the  Institutes  of  Justinian.  You  see  in  the  former,  the  Ro- 
man law  in  its  highest  theoretical  perfection  ;  you  see  it  in  the 
symmetry  of  an  exact  science  and  a  rigid  logic,  pursuing  its  prin- 
ciples without  limitation  and  without  reserve,  to  all  their  legiti- 
mate consequences.  Gaius  speaks  repeatedly  ot  what  he  calls 
elegantia  or  inelegantia  juris  ;  that  is  to  say,  of  what  is  or  is 
not  agreeable  to  the  perfect  harmony  of  its  doctrines,  and  the 
strict  logical  filiation  of  its  reasonings.  A  stipulation  to  give 
post  mortem  meam,  or  cum  morieris,  is  void,  because  it  is  inele- 
gans  that  a  stipulation  should  begin  only  with  the  heir.*  An- 
other instance  will  be  still  more  illustrative.  By  a  senatus-con- 
sultum  which  Claudius,  at  the  instigation  of  his  freedman  Pal- 
las, caused  to  be  passed,  a  free  woman  cohabiting  with  a  slave, 
against  his  master's  express  prohibition  thrice  solemly  pro- 
nounced, was  herself  reduced  to  bondage ;  yet  she  might,  by  a 
special  agreement  with  the  master,  retain  her  own  liberty  at  the 
expense  of  that  of  her  offspring,  who  were  to  be  born  slaves. 
But  the  Emperor  Hadrian,  says  Gaius, t — iniquitate  rex  et  inele- 
gantia juris  motus — restored  the  rule  of  the  jus  gentium  upon 
the  subject,  and  ordained  that  the  children  should  inherit  the 
status  of  the  mother.  Now  Justinian  would  undoubtedly  have 
gone  at  least  as  far  as  Hadrian,  as  he  in  fact  abolished  the  sena- 
tus  consultum  of  Claudius,  not  without  denouncing  it  as  unwor- 
thy of  the  spirit  of  the  age  ;  but  he  would  have  been  quite  satis- 
fied with  the  former  of  the  two  reasons,  the  iniquitas  rei,  to  the 
correction  of  which  he  scrupled  not,  on  every  occasion,  to  sacri- 
fice the  mere  symmetry  of  the  law.J  This  we  take  to  be  the 
true  character  of  his  legislation.  His  reforms  are  a  perpetual  sac- 
rifice of  law  to  equity,  of  science  to  policy  or  feeling,  of  jus  civile 
to  jus  gentium,  of  the  privileges  of  the  citizen  to  the  rights  of 
man,  of  the  pride  and  the  prejudices  of  Rome  to  the  genius  of 
humanity  consecrated  by  the  religion  of  Christ.  There  are  those 
who  seem  to  imagine  that  the  civil  law  has  existed  as  a  sci- 
ence only  since  Justinian  published  it  in  the  form  of  a  code. 
The  very  reverse  is  the  fact :  the  civil  law  lost  so  many  of  its 
peculiarities  by  his  unsparing  reforms,  that  it  may  be  said,  more 
properly,  to  have  ceased  to  exist  at  that  time ;  to  have  been  com- 
pletely transmuted  into  the  law  of  nature,  and  the  universal  equi- 
ty of  cultivated  nations,  to  which  it  had  been,  for  a  long  time, 
gradually  approximating.  It  is  this  extraordinary  change  that  is 
brought  before  us,  in  a  sudden  and  striking  contrast,  by  collating 
the  text  of  Gaius  with  that  of  Justinian, — the  Institutes  of  the 

*P.  154,  155.  t  P.  22. 

I  A  passage  very  much  in  point  and  highly  illustrative  of  the  sublilitas,  as  Jus- 
tinian himself  calls  it,  of  the  jurisprudentia  media,  contrasted  with  his  own  views 
of  the  law,  is  to  be  found,  Institut.  1.  III.  t.  2.  §  3.  Delegitima  agnatorum  succession. 
He  applauds  the  Praetor  for  his  humane  purposes,  but  thinks  that  the  bon.  possessio 
unde  cognati  had  not  gone  far  enough. 


516  ORIGIN,  HISTORY  AND    INFLUENCE 

Roman  law,  strictly  so  called,  and  the  Institutes  of  that  law, 
purged  of  almost  all  that  was  Roman,  that  is  since  become,  in  the 
hands  of  Domat  and  Pothier,  of  Voet  and  Vinnius,  the  "written 
reason"  of  Christendom.  "Populus  itaque  Romanus"  says  Ga- 
ius,  "partim  suo  proprio,  partim  communi  omnium  hominum 
jure  utitur ;"  even  so,  but  the  proper  has  been  merged  in  the 
common,  just  as  the  text  of  Gains  is  in  that  Tribonian,  to  the  ex- 
clusion of  res  mancipi,  actiones  legis,  and  distinctions  between 
classes  of  legacies,  and  freedmen. 

This  view  of  the  subject  is  so  important  in  reference  both  to 
the  history  of  the  civil  law,  and  to  the  philosophy  of  jurispru- 
dence in  general,  and  has  especially  such  a  bearing  on  the  ques- 
tion, whether  the  former  is  likely  "soon  to  be  forgotten,"  that  we 
shall  be  excused  for  pursuing  it  somewhat  farther. 

D'Aguesseau,  in  a  panegyric  of  unrivalled  beauty,  upon  this 
body  of  jurisprudence,  as  it  was  then  studied  and  practised  in 
France,  uses  the  following  language : 

"These  rules,  it  is  true,  have  almost  all  of  them  their  founda- 
tion in  natural  law  ;  but  who,  by  a  single  effort  of  sublime  spe- 
culation, could  go  up  to  the  origin  of  so  many  streams  that  are 
now  so  far  removed  from  their  fountain  ?  Who  could  descend 
from  that  fountain,  as  if  by  degrees,  and  follow  step  by  step  the 
almost  infinite  divisions  of  all  the  branches  that  flow  from  it,  to 
become,  as  it  were,  the  inventor  and  creator  of  a  system  of  law  ? 

"Such  efforts  transcend  the  ordinary  limits  of  human  exertion. 
But,  fortunately,  other  men  have  made  them  for  us  ;  a  single 
book  which  science  opens  at  once  to  the  judge,  developes  to  him, 
without  any  difficulty,  the  first  principles  and  the  remotest  con- 
sequences of  the  law  of  nature. 

"The  work  of  that  people,  whom  heaven  seems  to  have  formed 
to  govern  men,  every  thing  in  it  breathes  that  high  wisdom,  that 
deep  sense,  and,  to  sum  up  all  in  one  word,  the  gift  of  that  spirit 
of  legislation  which  was  the  peculiar  and  distinguishing  charac 
teristic  of  the  masters  of  the  world.  As  if  the  mighty  destinies 
of  Rome  were  not  yet  fulfilled,  she  reigns  throughout  the  whole 
earth,  by  her  reason,  after  having  ceased  to  reign  by  her  author- 
ity. It  might,  indeed,  be  affirmed,  that  justice  has  fully  deve- 
loped her  mysteries  only  to  the  Roman  lawyer.  Legislators 
rather  than  jurisconsults,  mere  individuals  in  the  shades  of  pri- 
vate life,  have  had  the  merit,  by  the  superiority  of  their  intelli- 
gence, to  give  laws  to  all  posterity.  Laws  of  a  jurisdiction  not 
less  extensive  than  durable,  all  nations,  even  now,  refer  to  them, 
as  to  an  oracle,  and  receive  from  them  responses  of  eternal  truth. 
It  is,  for  them,  but  small  praise,  to  have  interpreted  the  XII. 
Tables,  or  the  Edict  of  the  Praetor,  they  are  the  surest  interpre- 
ters, even  of  our  laws ;  they  lend,  so  to  express  it,  their  wisdom 
to  our  usages,  their  reason  to  our  customs,  and,  by  the  principles 


OP  ROMAN  LEGISLATION.  517 

which  they  furnish  us,  they  serve  us  as  a  guide,  even  when  we 
walk  in  ways  which  were  unknown  to  them."  (XIII.  Mercu- 
riale.) 

We  have  before  us  a  striking  example  of  the  truth  thus  elo- 
quently expressed,  and  it  is  with  unaffected  pleasure,  that  we 
turn  from  the  virtuous  and  learned  D'Aguesseau,  to  do  homage 
to  one  who  has  done  honor  to  his  country.  Mr.  Justice  Story 
has,  in  a  series  of  valuable  publications,  not  only  enriched  the 
library,  but  enlarged  the  horizon  of  the  American  lawyer.  He 
has  most  fully  verified  by  his  success,  an  opinion  we  have  long 
cherished,  as  to  the  superiority  of  the  civilians  and  those  nurtur- 
ed in  their  conversation,  as  elementary  writers,  over  the  lawyers 
trained  for  practice  in  England.  It  is  with  surprise  we  find  a 
different  opinion  expressed  by  Mr.  Cooper.*  It  will  not  be  de- 
nied that  some  English  text  writers,  and  indeed,  most  of  them, 
discover  a  thorough  acquaintance  with  the  subjects  they  treat, 
considered  as  mere  matters  of  business — that  they  carefully  col- 
lect all  the  decided  cases,  and  critically  distinguish  the  circum- 
stances that  ought  to  affect  their  authority  as  law,  or  their  effect 
as  precedents  in  point — nor  have  we  any  doubt  at  all,  but  that 
so  far  as  these  cases  go,  those  compilers  are  as  safe  guides  as  can 
be  followed  by  counsellors  or  their  clients.t  But  there  arise 
sometimes — and  it  is  generally  in  things  touching  the  highest 
interests,  public  or  private,  and  most  calculated  to  excite  the 
minds  of  men,  that  there  do  arise — questions  in  which  the  file 
affords  no  precedent,  and  the  judge  is  compelled  to  make  one  by 
the  help  of  analogy,  and  by  reasoning  from  principles.  Now,  it 
is  in  such  cases  that  an  English  text  book  hardly  ever  affords 
the  least  assistance  to  an  enquirer.  They  never  think  of  the 
elegantia  juris  of  Gaius,  of  a  scientific  distribution  of  their  sub- 
ject, of  genus  or  species,  class  or  category ;  the  principle  of  a  rule 
is  seldom  stated  as  a  theorem,  and  when  a  new  case  calls  for  its 
application,  the  most  trifling  difference  in  accidental  circum- 
stances gives  rise  to  embarrassing  doubt.  In  short,  there  is  a 
total  absence  of  all  philosophical  analysis,  and  systematic  expo- 
sition. Fearne's  book  is  generally  considered  as  one  of  the  most 
lucid  and  satisfactory  treatises  in  the  library  of  an  English  law- 
yer— yet  look  at  the  summing  up  of  his  prolix  discussion  of  the 
rule  in  Shelley's  case — what  does  he  at  last  make  the  foundation 
of  that  most  startling,  and  yet  best  settled  of  all  the  canons  of 
English  succession — to  the  Jews  a  stumbling  block,  and  to  the 
Greeks  foolishness?  Does  he  agree  with  Mr.  Justice  Blackstone 
in  his  "celebrated"  argument  in  Perrin  and  Blake,  which  Lord 
Thurlow  thought  proved  nothing  but  Blackstone's  ignorance  of 

*  Lettres  sur  la  Chancellerie  d'Angleterre. 
t  See  the  remarkable  case  mentioned.    Ibid. 


518  ORIGIN,  HISTORY  AND    INFLUENCE 

the  whole  subject  ?  Does  he  agree  with  Lord  Thurlow  himself? 
or  does  he  subscribe  to  Mr.  Hargrave's  rather  obscure  opinion  ? 
Is  it  a  rule  of  feudal  descent,  or  is  it  merely  a  canon  of  interpre- 
tation ?  So,  as  to  a  remainder  itself,  where  has  he  shown  why 
the  law  so  inexorably  required  the  vesting  of  a  remainder,  at  the 
death  of  the  tenant  for  life,  &c.  &c.  We  might  push  this  much 
farther — but  his  non  erat  locus — we  forbear. 

There  can  not  be,  in  our  judgment,  a  greater  contrast  than 
that  which  exists  between  such  treatises,  and  those  of  Pothier. 
What  Cicero  says,  in  an  often  quoted  passage,  of  the  superiority 
of  Servius  Sulpicius  to  all  his  predecessors,  in  his  exposition  of 
the  doctrines  of  the  Civil  Law,  is  precisely  applicable  here.  But 
any  one  who  wants  an  exemplification  of  our  ideas  upon  the 
subject,  has  only  to  compare  Maddock's  Chancery  with  Mr.  Jus- 
tice Story's  excellent  Commentaries  on  Equity,  the  best  text 
book,  by  far,  ever  yet  published  on  that  subject. 

But  it  is  not  only  in  scientific  method  and  arrangement,  that 
the  civilians,  of  the  last  two  centuries  especially,  excel  as  ele- 
mentary writers.  They  have  drawn  their  materials  from  a 
longer  and  infinitely  more  diversified  experience,  than  the  Eng- 
lish lawyers.  The  insular  position  of  England,  and  the  peculi- 
arity of  her  institutions,  have  hitherto  separated  her,  as  it  were, 
from  the  family  of  nations,  and  shut  her  out  from  the  disputatio 
fori  (if  we  may  borrow  a  phrase  from  the  civilians)  of  modern 
international  jurisprudence.  She  has  been  literally  a  law  to 
herself — 

Penitus  toto  divisos  orbe  Britannos.* 

So  much  the  better,  undoubtedly,  for  her  own  admirable  pub- 
lic law — but  this  circumstance  accounts  for  chasms  in  her  legal 
system,  such  as  that  which  Mr.  Justice  Story  has  just  filled  up 
by  his  excellent  book  at  the  head  of  this  article.  Is  it  not  pass- 
ing strange — or  rather  would  it  not  be  so,  but  for  the  circum- 
stance just  alluded  to,  of  her  isolated  position,  political  and  phy- 
sical— that  it  has  been  reserved  for  an  American  jurist,  at  this 
time  of  day,  to  discuss  for  the  first  time  in  the  vernacular,  in  a 
manner  worthy  of  such  a  subject,  the  principles  which  govern 
nations  in  so  important  and  delicate  a  matter,  as  a  conflict  of 
laws?  In  his  able  and  ample  exposition  of  the  subject,  the 
help  which  he  has  derived  from  Westminister  Hall  has  been 
comparatively  little ;  the  Ecclesiastical  and  Scotch  courts  have 
contributed  more — but,  after  all,  his  principal  reliance  has  been 
upon  the  civilians,  not  forgetting  some  admirable  discussions 

*  What  light  is  to  be  derived  from  English  books  on  such  subjects  as  are 
treated  of  by  Struvius  Corp.  Jur.,  Germanici  1  Take  the  case  of  two  states,  se- 
parated by  a  river  ;  where  are  their  relative  rights  in  the  use  of  it,  discussed  by 
English  lawyers  ? 


OF  ROMAN  LEGISLATION.  519 

from  the  courts  of  Louisiana* — and  both  this  work  and  the  pre- 
vious one  upon  Bailments  are  fruits  of  his  intercourse  with  them, 
and  most  conclusive  evidence  that  they  are  not  "forgotten  teach- 
ers of  a  science  that  is  likely"  either  soon  or  late,  "to  be  forgotten." 
But  Mr.  Hallam  seems  to  imagine  that  these  fountains  of  ever 
living  waters  will  be  abandoned,  because  men  have  in  these  later 
times  hewn  out  to  themselves  broken  cisterns  that  will  hold  no 
water.  "The  new  legal  systems,  (we  quote  another  sentence 
from  the  same  paragraph,)  which  the  moral  and  political  revolu- 
tions of  the  age  have  produced,  and  are  likely  to  diffuse,  will 
leave  little  influence"  to  them.  That  is  to  say,  the  French  Code, 
and  other  systems  formed  or  projected  in  imitation  of  it,  are  to 
supersede  for  ever  the  Corpus  Juris  Civilis.  It  is  really  melan- 
choly to  hear  a  man  of  so  much  ability  and  information,  uttering 
an  error  as  vulgar  as  any  recorded  by  Tom  Browne.  It  certainly 
is  not  our  present  purpose  to  discuss,  at  large,  the  exploded  folly 
of  Codification  :  it  will  be  time  enough  to  attack  when  any  body 
shall  be  found  to  defend  it,  under  any  other  circumstances  than 
those,  which  rendered  such,  or  indeed  any  means  of  producing 
unity  of  legislation  and  judicature  in  France,  desirable.  But, 
even  in  France,  no  body  imagined  before  the  formation  of  the 
code,  and  certainly  no  body  pretends  since,  that  the  collecting  of 
a  few  principles,  in  such  an  abridgment,  is  to  dispense  with  the 
most  profound,  comprehensive,  diversified,  and  universally  ap- 
plicable body  of  juridical  reason  and  natural  equity,  that  the 
world  has  ever  known.  None  that  have  looked  into  the  aDis- 
cours  et  Expose  dcs  motifs"  of  Bonaparte's  commissioners  need 
be  told  that  they  are  rivals  of  Justinian,  at  least  in  one  qualifica- 
tion of  a  professed  reformer,  unbounded  self-complacency,  and 
that,  like  Tribonian  and  his  associates,  they  glorify  their  master 
and  themselves  without  scruple,  and  without  stint.  They  repre- 
sent all  France,  from  the  banks  of  the  Rhine  and  the  Meuse  to 
those  of  the  Var  and  the  Rhone,  as  in  an  ecstacy  of  wonder  at  the 
work  of  sagacity  and  patience,t  which  their  pregnant  wits  were 
bringing  forth — a  patience,  be  it  remembered  by  the  way,  dis- 
played in  preparing  their  projet  within  four  months,  and  a  saga- 
city which  determined  them  to  use  the  labors  of  others  instead  of 
their  own,  in  doing  so.  Yet  even  these  luminaries  of  this  pri- 
vileged age  admit  that  their  code  is,  at  best,  but  a  germ,  round 
which  a  body  of  unwritten  law  is  yet  to  be  formed  by  practice, 
usage,  and  interpretation.  As  to  dispensing  with  the  study  of 
the  Civil  Law,  they  earnestly  deprecate  the  very  idea  of  it,  and 
no  where,  not  even  in  the  passage  quoted  just  now  from  D'Agues- 

*  The  case  of  Saul  and  his  creditors  is  one  of  the  best  reasoned  we  ever  met 
with. 

t  See  the  tumid  vauntings  of  the  tribune  Duveyrier,  18  Pluviose,  sur  le  projet  de 
loi  titre  X.  relatif.  au  contrat  de  marriage,  Tome  III. 


520  ORIGIN,  HISTORY  AND    INFLUENCE 

seau,  is  there  to  be  found  a  more  studied  and  ample  panegyric 
upon  its  wisdom  and  equity,  than  fell  from  the  lips  of  more  than 
one  of  them.  "In  this  projet,  (says  the  orator  of  the  Tribunal 
Garry,  referring  to  the  Title  de  Vusufruit,  de  Vusage  et  de  F ha- 
bitation,) as  in  all  those  which  will  be  successively  presented  for 
your  approbation,  you  will  remark  with  satisfaction  the  reli- 
gious care  with  which  all  those  who  have  been  concerned  in  the 
reduction  of  the  code,  have  consulted  the  legislation  of  that  peo- 
ple, who,  after  having  subjugated  the  whole  earth  by  force  of 
arms,  govern  it  still  by  the  superiority  and  profoundness  of  their 
reason.  I  shall  be  permitted,  here,  to  advert  to  an  error  dissemi- 
nated already  by  ignorance,  and  which  nothing  but  indolence 
could  accredit,  namely,  that  it  will  be  hereafter  sufficient  for 
those  who  are  destined  to  the  study  of  the  law,  to  know  the 
Code  Civil.  We  cannot  too  often  repeat  that,  after  the  example 
of  our  greatest  magistrates,  and  our  most  celebrated  jurisconsults, 
they  must  study  the  law  in  its  purest  source,  the  Roman  laws. 
It  is  only  by  profound  and  incessant  meditation  upon  that  im- 
mortal monument  of  wisdom  and  equity,  that  they  can  be  formed 
who  aspire  to  the  honorable  occupation  of  enlightening  their  fel- 
low citizens  upon  their  interests,  or  of  pronouncing  judgment 
upon  their  controversies.*  Another,  (and  he  is  one  of  the  most 
distinguished  of  the  counsellors  of  state,)  M.  Bigot-Preameneu, 
when  he  comes  to  the  Corps  Legislatif,  {Legislature,  hardly 
describes  such  an  assembly,)  with  Title  II.  B.  III.  of  the  Code, 
"on  the  various  modes  of  acquiring  property,  and  on  contracts, 
and  conventional  obligations  in  general,"  dwells  still  more  at 
large  upon  the  merits  of  that  vast  body  of  doctrine,  as  he  ex- 
presses it,  which  will  render  the  legislation  of  Rome  immortal. 
To  have  foreseen,  he  continues,  by  far  the  greatest  number  of 
those  covenants  and  agreements,  to  which  the  condition  of  man 
in  society  gives  rise  ;  to  have  weighed  all  the  grounds  of  deci- 
sion, between  interests  the  most  opposite  and  the  most  complica- 
ted ;  to  have  dispersed  most  of  the  clouds  in  which  equity  is  too 
often  found  involved ;  to  have  gathered  in  one  collection  all  that 
is  most  sublime  and  most  holy  in  morals  and  philosophy  ;  such 
are  the  results  achieved  in  that  immense  and  precious  depository, 
which  will  never  cease  to  deserve  the  respect  of  mankind,  which 
will  contribute  to  the  civilization  of  the  whole  globe,  and  whicli 
all  cultivated  nations  rejoice  to  acknowledge  as  written  reason. 
After  adding  that  all  further  progress  in  legislation,  except  what 
may  be  implied  in  a  better  order  and  method,  seems  out  of  the 
question,  and  after  some  just  remarks  upon  the  defects  of  the 
Justinian  Collection,  in  this  respect,  which  are  of  course  correct- 
ed in  the  projet  presented  by  him,  he  proceeds  to  add,  emphati- 
cally, that  it  is  no  part  of  their  purpose,  in  digesting,  according 
•  Discours,  &c.  T.  III.  p.  93. 


OF  ROMAN  LEGISLATION.  521 

to  a  more  lucid  arrangement,  the  principles  involved  in  the  title, 
to  supersede  the  study  of  the  Roman  law  on  the  subject  of  con- 
tracts. It  will  no  longer,  he  observes,  have  in  France  the  au- 
thority of  municipal  legislation  ;  but  it  will  exercise  the  com- 
manding influence  which  reason  confers  in  all  nations.  "Rea- 
son is  their  common  law."*  The  provisions  of  the  code,  in  rela- 
tion to  contracts,  would  be  very  much  misunderstood  if  they 
were  regarded  in  any  other  light  than  as  elementary  rules  of 
equity,  of  which  all  the  ramifications  are  to  be  found  in  the  Ro- 
man laws.  It  is  there  that  the  full  development  of  the  science 
of  the  just  and  the  unjust  is  to  be  sought :  from  that  source  they 
must  draw  who  would  wish  to  make  any  progress  in  the  French 
code,  or  who  shall  be  charged  with  the  preservation  and  the  ex- 
ecution of  the  laws  deposited  in  it. 

Such  acknowledgments  as  these,  frankly  made  by  the  authors 
of  this  extravagantly  vaunted  collection,  ought,  one  should  think, 
to  have  obviated,  not  merely  such  an  error — scarcely  excusable 
in  any  point  of  view — as  that  pointed  out  in  Mr.  Hallam's  work, 
but  many  other  opinions  in  regard  to  that  code,  and  to  the  vir- 
tues of  written,  or  more  properly,  positive  law  in  general,  just  as 
false,  but  far  more  mischievous  and  troublesome  to  society. 
They  saw  the  great  fundamental  truth  thus  expressly  enunciated 
by  one  of  them.  uLes  codes  des  peuples  sefont  avec  le  temps  ; 
metis  proprement  on  ne  les  fait  pas."  Subsequent  experience 
has  fully  justified  these  anticipations.  Mr.  Cooper  mentions,  in 
his  Lettres  sur  la  chancellerie  U  AngleterreJ  that  the  Bulletin 
des  Lois,  which  is  just  as  necessary  to  the  French  public  as  the 
five  codes  themselves,  and  which,  at  the  time  he  wrote,  compre- 
hended the  legislation  of  only  thirty-five  years,  already  contained 
more  than  a  hundred  volumes ;  while  the  Recueil  de  Cassa- 
tion— that  is  the  collection  of  the  decrees  of  the  Cour  de  Cassa- 
tion up  to  1826 — was  just  twenty-six  goodly  tomes.  The  same 
writer  has  furnished,  from  a  bookseller's  advertisement,  in  the 
titles  of  two  new  works,  a  curious  proof,  how  impossible  it  is  for 
a  great  nation,  even  after  passing  through  a  revolution  more  un- 
sparingly subversive  than  any  recorded  in  history,  and  legisla- 
ting literally  upon  the  ruins  of  the  past,  to  get  rid  of  its  previous 
laws.t  But  an  observation  from  the  same  source,  still  more  to 
our  immediate  purpose,  is,  that  no  one  can  read  the  avertisse- 
ment  of  the  11th  volume  of  the  works  of  M.  Dupin,  without  at 
once  perceiving  how  necessary  and  profitable  it  is,  after  having 
looked  into  any  article  in  the  codes,  to  turn  to  what  Pothier  has 

*  Even  this  aphorism  is  borrowed  from  the  Civilians,  who  teach  ratio  natumlis 
lex  quccdam  tacita. 

t  P.  128  (ed.  of  Brussels.) 

X  P.  155.  Recueil  general  des  Ordonnances,  Edits,  Declarations.  Lettres-Pa- 
tentes,  Arrets  du  Conseil,  Arrets  de  reglements,  &c,  qui  ne  sont  pas  abroge's, 
&c.  &c. 

vol.  i. — 66 


522  ORIGIN,  HISTORY  AND    INFLUENCE 

written  upon  the  same  subject.  The  truth  of  this  assertion  is 
established,  and  the  reason  explained,  by  a  fact  stated  by  this 
very  M.  Dnpin,  a  witness  above  all  exception.  "The  works  of 
Pothier,"  saye  he,  "have  not  been  received  by  us  as  laws,  but 
they  have  obtained  a  similar  honor ;  for  more  than  three  fourths 
of  the  Code  Civil  are  literally  extracted  from  his  treatises. 
The  truth  is  the  redacteurs  of  that  Code,  convinced  that  they 
could  not  possibly  imagine  an  order  more  perfect  than  that  which 
Pothier  had  adopted  for  his  various  treatises,  and  that  they  could 
no  where  else  find  sounder  principles,  or  more  equitable  deci- 
sions, had  the  praiseworthy  good  sense,  to  confine  themselves  to 
an  analysis  of  his  works."*  What  a  commentary  is  this  upon 
the.  boasted  "sagacity  and  patience"  of  those  rtdactenrs !  It 
only  remains  for  us,  in  order  to  complete  the  view  which  we 
have  endeavored  to  present,  of  the  influence  of  Roman  legisla 
tion,  to  mention  that  Pothier — worthy,  as  we  admit  him  to  be,  of 
all  honor  and  reverence — is  but  a  commentator  upon  the  doc- 
trines gathered  by  Justinian  into  his  heterogeneous  collection, 
and  that  the  great  bulk  of  these  doctrines  is  to  be  found  in  the 
Pandects,  of  which  one  third  is  made  up  of  literal  extracts  from 
Ulpian,  one  sixth  from  Paulus,t  and  the  remainder  from  other 
celebrated  jurisconsults  from  Scevola  to  Modestinus.  It  is  thus 
demonstrated  that  the  science  which  they  taught,  is  likely  to  pass 
away  when  Euclid's  elements  shall  be  forgotten,  but  not  till 
then. 

If  the  hero  of  Marengo  and  Austerlitz,  who  shivered  to  pieces 
the  throne  of  the  German  Caesars,  and  blotted  out  for  ever  the 
name  of  the  Roman  Empire,  consoled  himself,  in  that  last  exile, 
with  the  assurance  that  his  work  of  peace,  the  Code,  was  inden- 
tified  with  the  constitution  of  society,  and  would  live  when  his 
victories  should  be  no  more  than  those  of  Timour  or  Alexander — 
what  honor  shall  we  not  ascribe  to  those  who  were  really  the 
authors  of  that  work,  and  the  trophies  of  whose  wisdom  are  thus 
preferred  before  all  the  glory  of  the  earth. 

And  why  should  they  not  be  preferred  to  the  perishable  gran- 
deur which  they  have  survived  ? 

Strange,  but  striking,  and  impressive  destiny  !  This  body  of 
morality  and  reason,  rescued  from  beneath  the  ruins  of  the  first 
Roman  Empire,  of  whose  civilization  it  was  the  proudest  monu- 
ment, and  whose  majestic  image  is  impressed  upon  its  whole 
face,  was  used  as  a  most  powerful  instrument  to  build  up  the  se- 
cond; and  the  treaty  of  Luneville  had  scarcely  sealed  the  fate  of 
that  second,  when  the  founder  of  a  domination,  more  haughty 
than  either,  adopted  it  as  the  basis  of  a  new  order  of  things.     But 

*  Dissertation  sur  la  vie  et  les  ouvrages  de  Pothier,  par  M.  Dupin  (apud 
Cooper,  Lettres,  &c). 
t  Hugo  L.B.  eines  C.  C.  B.  I.  S.  116. 


OF  ROMAN  LEGISLATION.  523 

a  few  years — scarcely  more  than  a  generation  of  men — are  passed 
away,  and  behold !  that  throne,  too,  is  mouldering,  with  the  oth- 
ers, in  the  dust,  while  a  combination  of  favorable  circumstances 
has  given  a  renovated  youth,  and  seems  to  insure  an  uncontested 
dominion  to  the  immortal  spirit  of  the  Roman  Law  ! 

We  have  said  that  the  Civil  Law  was  made  use  of  to  build 
up  the  Holy  Roman  Empire,  and  in  appreciating  and  account- 
ing for  its  influence  over  modern  society,  that  circumstance  must 
not  be  overlooked.  About  fifty  years  after  the  revival  of  the 
study  of  it  under  Irnerius,  it  attracted  the  attention  of  the  Em- 
peror Frederic  Barbarossa,  whose  penetration  it  could  not  escape, 
how  profound  a  respect  for  its  authority  was  entertained  in  the 
Italian  cities,  and  to  what  profitable  account  it  might  be  turned 
in  extending  the  prerogatives  of  the  crown.  On  a  second  visit 
to  Italy,  (in  1158,)  he  surrounded  himself  with  professors  of  law, 
conferred  upon  their  school  the  privileges  of  a  University,  and 
had  their  co-operation  at  Roncaglia  in  multiplying  his  regalia, 
and  clothing  him  as  far  as  possible  in  the  sovereignty  conferred 
by  the  real  or  imaginary  Lex  Regia — a  new  pretension  in  feudal 
Europe.  From  this  epoch,  the  Emperor  began  to  be  familiarly 
spoken  of  among  the  doctors  of  Italy,  as  the  successor  of  the 
Caesars,  and  the  Civil  Law  to  be  regarded  as  an  Imperial  Com- 
mon Law,  binding  upon  all  Christendom,  because  unity  of  faith 
and  allegiance,  under  one  head,  was  supposed  to  be  exacted  by 
the  Divine  Founder.*  But  it  was  long  before  the  slavish  maxims 
of  the  Byzantine  Court  could  make  their  way  into  the  tribunals 
of  Germany.  At  length,  however,  as  the  progress  of  civilization 
called  for  a  better  legislation,  the  superiority  of  the  Civil  Law  in 
all  that  relates  to  meum  and  tuum,  began  to  be  more  and  more 
felt.  It  was  favored  by  the  example  of  Charles  IV.,  by  the  in- 
fluence of  the  numerous  universities  founded  between  the  middle 
of  the  fourteenth  and  the  beginning  of  the  sixteenth  century, 
and  by  the  establishment  of  the  Imperial  Chamber;  so  that  under 
the  reign  of  Maximilian  I.  it  was  fairly  installed,  within  limits 
or  on  conditions,  as  it  appears,  not  very  perfectly  defined,  as  a 
part  of  the  common  law  of  Germany.t  In  France  the  pays  de 
droit  ecrit  extended  from  the  Mediterranean  to  the  Loire,  and  in 
all  the  other  kingdoms  of  Europe,  the  legislation  of  Rome  "com- 
manded the  respect  or  obedience  of  independent  nations."  This 
part  of  the  subject,  however,  we  must  reserve  for  a  future  occa- 
sion. But  its  influence,  in  another  sphere,  was  too  commanding 
and  universal  to  be  omitted  here.  The  compilations  of  the  Ca- 
non Law,  which  began  to  be  made  as  early  as  the  middle  of  the 
twelfth  century,  gave  it  more  form  and  consistency,  and  the  au- 
thority of  the  church,  and  the  jurisdiction  of  the  ecclesiastical 

*  Eichhorn  Deutsche  Staats  and  Rechts-Geschichte.  II.  Th.  §  269. 
t  Id.  III.  Th.  §  440f 


524  ORIGIN,  HISTORY   AND    INFLUENCE 

courts,  co-operated  in  extending  and  perpetuating  the  dominion 
of  Paullus  and  Papinian,  of  Ulpian  and  Gaius  over  the  human 
mind. 

But  whatever  the  authority  of  the  Empire  or  the  Church  may- 
have  done  to  facilitate  the  diffusion  of  the  Civil  Law  in  modern 
Europe,  we  have  said  enough  to  show  that  the  day  must,  at  all 
events,  have  come,  when  its  intrinsic  excellencies  would  have 
recommended  it  to  the  respect  and  the  acceptance  of  mankind. 
Its  connection  with  those  institutions  was  essentially  transitory — 
her  light  dwelt  in  them,  only  until  the  social  condition  of  Europe 
should  be  fully  prepared,  to  receive  it  in  a  proper  form  and  in  its 
true  brightness  and  purity, — 

Sphered  in  a  radiant  cloud,  for  yet  the  sun 
Was  not,  she  in  a  cloudy  tabernacle 
Sojourned  the  while. 

An  old  chronicler,  quoted  by  Eichhorn,  asks  and  answers  the 
question,  why  the  whole  earth  should  be  subjected  to  the  laws 
of  a  single  city.*  He  ascribes  to  the  necessity  of  maintaining 
the  unity  of  faith,  what  we  explain  by  more  profane  reasons : 
but  whatever  solution  be  given  of  that  problem,  there  is  another 
question  naturally  suggested  by  the  facts  brought  to  the  view  of 
our  readers,  in  the  preceding  pages,  which  we  beg  leave  ourselves 
to  propose  and  to  answer:  Was  there  any  thing  in  the  original 
character  of  the  Roman  law,  that  fitted  it  to  become  thus  uni- 
versally applicable,  or  by  what  causes,  and  through  what  process, 
was  it  ultimately  rendered  so? 

It  is  laid  down  as  a  fundamental  maxim,  by  Montesquieu,t 
that  laws  ought  to  be  so  peculiarly  adapted  to  the  people  for 
whom  they  are  made,  that  there  is  but  a  remote  chance  of  their 
being  found  suitable  for  any  other. 

This,  like  so  many  other  of  that  brilliant  writer's  best  thoughts, 
can  be  received  only  with  qualifications  and  distinctions.  So 
far  as  it  goes  to  preclude  all  merely  arbitrary  legislation  a  la 
Joseph  II. — all  those  theories,  so  much  in  vogue,  and  so  prolific 
of  disorder  in  the  latter  half  of  the  eighteenth  century,  of  systems 
of  universal  public  law,  and  of  the  power  of  the  lawgiver  to  cut 
out  society,  as  if  it  were  made  of  parchment  or  paper,  into  what- 
ever shape  he  might  judge  most  eligible,  and  to  make  it  in  that 
shape  a  living,  moving,  and  an  effective  thing — the  experience 
of  Europe,  for  the  last  sixty  years,  has  abundantly  confirmed  his 
opinion. t     Undoubtedly  if  there  be  any  thing  very  peculiar  in 

•  Otto  Frising.  Chron.  lib.  3.  Hoc  jam  solvendum  puto,  quare  unius  urbis 
imperio  totum  crbem  subjici,  univs  urbis legibns,  &c.  Scilicet,  ut  his  modis  unitas 
commendaretur  fidei. 

t  Esprit  des  Lois,  1.  i.  c.  3. 

1  See  the  excellent  remarks  of  Eichhorn  D.  S.  u.  R.  G.4.  Th.  p.  708,  and  seqq 
especially  as  to  the  failure  of  the  legislation  of  the  eighteenth  century  in  Prussia 
and  Austria. 


OF  ROMAN  LEGISLATION.  525 

the  condition,  the  character,  or  the  opinions  of  a  people,  its  law, 
hoth  public  and  private,  must  conform  to  it,  on  pain  of  being 
otherwise  wholly  inoperative ;  and  this  is  the  reason  why,  as  we 
have  seen,  the  authors  of  the  French  Code,  themselves,  think, 
and  think  justly,  that  by  far  the  greater  part  of  every  system 
must  grow  up  gradually  in  the  shape  of  common  or  customary 
law.  In  this  point  of  view  we  heartily  concur  with  Montes- 
quieu ;  but  we  have  seen,  in  the  case  of  the  Civil  Law,  that  in- 
finitely the  largest  and  most  important  portion  of  it — that  re- 
lating to  meum  and  tuum — is  suitable,  not  only  to  other  coun- 
tries, but  to  all  other  countries — that  it  is  as  applicable  at  Boston 
as  at  Paris,  and  has  served  equally  to  guide  the  legislation  of 
Napoleon,  and  to  enlighten  the  judgment  of  Story.  This  is  a 
fact  not  to  be  disputed,  but  accounted  for — a  fact  which  will 
excite  our  curiosity  the  more,  when  we  come  to  look  at  the  use 
which  Lord  Mansfield  made  of  the  science  of  the  Civilians,  in 
his  own  masterly  administration  of  justice,  and  to  discover,  as 
Mr.  Evans  has  shown,  that  he  often  applies  not  only  their  doc- 
trines, but  their  very  words,  to  the  action  for  money  had  and 
received.  This  example  is  the  most  striking  that  can  possibly 
be  imagined — for  certainly  if  there  ever  were  two  bodies  of 
jurisprudence  apparently  irreconcilable  with  one  another,  they 
were  the  old  common  law  of  Plowden  and  Coke,  and  the  Jus 
Civile  of  Rome  in  earlier  times. 

We  have  thus  answered  the  question  we  propounded  just  now, 
as  to  the  original  character  of  the  Roman  law.  It  was  as  far  as 
possible  from  being  the  "written  reason"  it  afterwards  became; 
but  to  explain  how  it  underwent  so  entire  a  revolution,  is  to 
write  its  history,  and  we  purpose  devoting  the  remainder  of  this 
paper  to  some  remarks  on  its  origin  and  progress  down  to  the 
time  of  Justinian. 

We  will  premise,  however,  that  in  what  we  had  occasion  to 
say  in  characterizing  the  Institutes  of  Gaius,  we  anticipated,  in 
a  few  words,  the  results  of  our  present  inquiry.  Considering 
that  book  as  the  mirror  of  the  old  Roman  law  in  its  highest  state 
of  perfection,  after  six  centuries  (for  so  many  were  elapsed  since 
the  Decemvirs  had  promulgated  their  tables)  of  experience  and 
cultivation,  we  contrasted  it  with  the  form  it  had  assumed  in  the 
hands  of  Tribonian.  You  see  at  a  glance,  that  in  the  interval 
of  nearly  four  hundred  years,  between  the  reign  of  M.  Aurelius 
and  that  of  Justinian,  some  mighty  revolution  has  occurred  in  the 
opinions  of  mankind,  for  laws  are  the  shadow  of  opinions.  This 
contrast  becomes,  of  course,  still  more  violent,  if,  laying  down 
Gaius,  you  take  up  what  remains  of  the  Twelve  Tables,  and  the 
literature  that  illustrates  it — but  of  that  by  and  by.  And  there 
had  occurred  in  that  interval  a  mighty  revolution, — the  mightiest 
of  all  moral  revolutions.     Constantine  had  ascended  the  throne, 


526  ORIGIN,  HISTORY  AND  INFLUENCE 

and  had  established  Christianity  in  the  Empire.  The  law,  which 
his  despotism  enforced,  became,  under  him  and  his  successors, 
more  and  more  impressed  with  the  spirit  of  the  gospel.  He  had 
built  himself  a  Christian  capital  undefiled,  and  abandoned,  as  he 
thought,  the  seven-hilled  city — the  seat  of  pagan  superstition — 
to  her  old  gods,  with  their  pontiffs,  their  flamens,  and  their  sooth- 
sayers— though,  in  truth,  we  may  just  remark,  en  passant,  that, 
by  thus  preparing  the  independence  of  the  popes,  and  facilitating 
and  almost  inviting  the  establishment  of  the  Teutonic  races  in 
the  west,  he  was  signally  contributing  to  hasten  the  formation  of 
the  Christendom  of  modern  times,  of  which  he  was.  at  the  same 
time,  erecting  on  the  Bosphorus  the  most  effectual  bulwark 
against  the  approaching  invasions  of  Islam.*  From  his  acces- 
sion, Christianity  became  the  jus  gentium  of  Europe,  or  the  ba- 
sis of  its  jus  gentium,  according  to  the  definition  of  the  civilians 
themselves.  In  the  copiousness  and  scientific  completeness  of 
their  vocabulary,  they  distinguished,  as  we  have  seen,  in  the  code 
of  every  nation,  what  was  peculiar  to  itself,  from  those  princi- 
ples that  prevailed  in  the  jurisprudence  of  the  rest  of  the  civilized 
world.  They  called  the  former  jus  civile,  they  designated  the 
latter  as  jus  gentium,  which  they  considered  as  in  all  cases  sy- 
nonomous  with  reason  and  natural  law.t  In  a  rude  state  of 
society,  the  jus  civile  covers,  so  to  express  it,  nearly  the  whole 
orb  of  legislation  ;  and  the  maxim  just  cited  from  Montesquieu  is 
applicable  to  it,  in  all  its  rigor.  It  is  local  and  exclusive.  But, 
in  the  progress  of  civilization,  the  other  element — natural  law, 
or  the  principles  of  general  equity  and  reason — gradually  occu- 
pies and  illumines  a  larger  and  larger  surface,  until  at  length  the 
differences  which  separate  the  legal  system  of  foreign  states,  al- 
most wholly  disappear.  It  is  impossible  not  to  perceive  this  ten- 
dency in  the  actual  condition  of  Christendom.  The  spirit  of  a 
religion,  which  we  consider  as  the  source  of  the  highest  and  most 
refined  civilization,  and  as  a  bond  of  union  among  modern  na- 

*  We  do  not  know  that  these  effects  of  the  division  of  the  empire  have  been 
even  yet  fully  developed.  To  let  in  the  German  raee  was  quite  as  desirable  in 
that  condition  of  the  world,  as  to  keep  out  the  Saracen  or  the  Turk. 

t  The  jus  naturale  of  the  Institutes  is  a  third  ingredient  of  every  law.  Ii  respects 
man,  not  as  a  reasonable  being  but  as  a  mere  animal.  Jt  is  quod  natura  omnia 
animalia  docuit.  In  this  sense,  jus  naturale  is  sometimes  opposed  to  jus  gentium. 
Thus,  for  instance,  it  is  said,  belia  enim  orta  sunt,  et  capitivitates  secutce  et  servilities, 
qua  suntjuri  naturali  conlraria.  Hugo  has  well  explained  this  to  apply  to  the  nature 
of  man  considered  only  as  an  animal,  not  to  man  as  a  reasonable  creature  and 
member  of  society. — Lchr-Buch  des  Natur-Rechts,  tyc,  189.  For  in  reference  to 
the  rights  and  liabilities  of  men  living  in  society,  jus  natures  and  jus  gentium 
are  uniformly  considered  as  synonymous.  As,  for  instance,  Instit.  II.  1,  §  11 : 
dominium  nanciscimar  jure  naturali,  quodsicut  diximus,  appeUalur  jus  gentum.  lb. 
§  41  :  jure  gentium,  id  est,  jure  naturali.  So  Cicero,  deOffic.  Ill,  5:  nequevero 
hoc  solum  natura,  id  est,  jure  gentium,  sed  etiam  legilms  populorum,  fyc.  It  is  im- 
portant to  bear  the  above  distinction  in  mind,  or  we  shall  ascribe  to  the  civilians 
opinions  as  to  war  and  slavery  which  they  certainly  did  not  entertain.  They 
never  question  the  moral  rectitude  of  either. 


OF  ROMAN  LEGISLATION.  527 

tions — which,  never  interfering  directly  with  the  policy  of  any 
government,  never  fails  in  the  long  run  to  influence  that  of  all — 
of  a  religion  essentially  catholic  and  comprehensive,  breathing 
mercy,  justice,  equality,  fraternity  among  men — unfavorable  to 
all  partial  advantages,  all  exclusive  privilege,  all  marked  nation- 
ality,— clearly  manifests  itself  in  the  advances  of  modern  legisla- 
tion, just  as  it  did  in  that  of  Constantine  and  his  successors, 
especially  in  that  of  Justinian.  Democracy,  in  the  high  and  only 
true  sense  of  that  much  abused  word,  is  the  destiny  of  nations, 
because  it  is  the  spirit  of  Christianity.  It  is  written  in  the  French 
code,  in  the  article  which  denies  to  the  father  all  power  of  dispo- 
sing, by  testament,  of  more  than  a  child's  portion.  It  is  seen  in 
the  whole  body  of  our  legislation  ;  but  in  nothing  more  than  in 
our  returning  to  the  simplicity  of  the  civil  law,  by  abolishing  all 
distinction  between  land  and  personal  property,  and  distributing 
them  indiscriminately  among  the  next  of  kin.  The  118th  novel 
of  Justinian  is  substantially  our  law  of  successions,  as  it  is  that 
of  France.  It  effaced  the  inequalities  of  the  old  Roman  law  ;  it 
has  effaced,  in  the  same  way,  those  of  feudal  Europe :  no  primo- 
geniture, no  preference  of  one  sex  to  the  other,  no  distinction 
between  agnati  and  cognati,  none  between  goods  moveable  and 
and  goods  immoveable.* 

To  show  that  what  we  have  done  in  this  country  is  not  acci- 
dental, it  is  not  necessary  to  seek  authority  for  it  in  the  codes  of 
antiquity,  or  in  those  of  foreign  countries :  there  is  a  still  more 
striking,  and,  as  it  were,  domestic  proof,  that  we  have  only  de- 
veloped the  germs,  and  given  scope  to  the  tendencies  of  our  own 
race.  There  are  few  subjects  of  more  curious  and  instructive 
speculation,  than  a  comparison  of  the  reforms  projected  under  the 
Commonwealth  of  England,  with  those  accomplished,  without 
an  effort  by  its  scions  in  a  new  world.  Almost  all  that  we  have 
done  to  simplify  and  equalize,  was  shadowed  forth  to  the  eyes  of 
Whitelocke  and  Cromwell.  The  same  principles  will  one  day 
produce  the  same  effects  in  England,  and,  deposited  in  the 
French  codes,  they  are  not  confined,  on  the  continent,  within  the 
territories  of  France.  They  have  taken  root  else  where,  and  ga~ 
ira. 

When  we  speak  of  the  influence  of  Christianity  upon  the  civil 
law,  and  especially  of  its  having  had  much  to  do  with  adapting 
it  to  serve,  as  it  does,  for  the  jus  gentium  of  modern  nations, 
we  would  not  by  any  means  be  understood  as  excluding  or  un- 
derrating the  co-operation  of  other  causes  to  the  same  end.  We 
have  said  that  it  had  been  long  approximating  by  degrees  to  that 
consummation  ;  in  the  lapse  of  a  thousand  years  from  the  De- 
cemvirs to  Justinian,  experience  and  science  had  brought  forth 

*  Montesquieu,  l'Esprit  des  Loix,  1.  26,  c.  6,  referring  to  these  changes,  seems 
too  much  disposed  to  sacrifice  the  jus  gentium  to  the^'ws  civile. 


528  ORIGIN,  HISTORY  AND    INFLUENCE 

their  fruits.  Thus,  for  instance,  the  Edict  of  the  Praetor,  which, 
like  the  English  chancery,  built  up,  in  a  long  lapse  of  time,  a 
vast  body  of  equitable  jurisprudence  commented  by  Ulpian,  in 
the  great  work  so  freely  used  in  the  Pandects,  gave  a  bonorum 
possessio  to  the  next  of  kin,  on  principles  almost  identical  with 
those  of  the  118th  novel.  The  same  observation  applies  to  many 
other  branches  of  the  law  :  but  still  much  was  left  to  be  done, 
and  much  was  done  by  Justinian,  and  generally  by  the  Christian 
emperors,  which  may  be  distinctly  traced  up  to  the  influence  of 
their  religious  opinions — the  religio  temporum  meorum* — the 
castitas  temporum^  familiarly  referred  to  in  the  legislation  of 
Tribonian.  One  has  only  to  glance  over  the  constitution  of  those 
emperors,  to  be  convinced  of  this.t  To  say  nothing  of  those 
which  fall  under  the  head  of  ecclesiastical  law,  such  as  those 
touching  legacies  to  pious  uses,  the  observance  of  Sunday  as  a 
festival  of  the  church,  and  the  functions,  rights,  and  conduct  of 
the  clergy,  we  find  Constantine  prohibiting  the  atrocious  exhibi- 
tions of  the  amphitheatre,  and  the  selling  of  children,  except  in 
cases  of  extreme  want,  and  that  in  earliest  infancy — a  horrid  ex- 
ception made  in  deference  to  the  "hardness  of  their  hearts,"  and 
the  inveterate  usage  of  the  heathen  world — infanticide — and 
superseded  by  subsequent  provision  for  the  support  of  both  off- 
spring and  parents.  We  see  the  spirit  of  Christianity  gradually 
taking  possession  of  the  seat  of  the  family  affections,  blessing 
home  with  holy  charities,  mitigating  the  despotism  of  the  father, 
consecrating  and  protecting  infancy  by  baptism,  and  crowning 
all  with  the  perfect  emancipation  of  woman.  In  short,  the  boast 
of  Eusebius.  that  Constantine  aimed  at  giving  sanctity  to  the 
laws,  may  be  safely  made  for  his  successors  in  general,  and 
Heineccius  adds,  after  other  writers,  to  sanctity,  simplicity — 
thus  freeing  jurisprudence  from  the  intricacy  of  forms  and  the 
snare  of  a  mere  technical  chicanery. § 

Such  was  the  end  of  the  civil  law — let  us  now  turn  for  a  mo- 
ment to  its  beginning. 

The  history  of  the  law,  properly  considered,  is  the  most  im- 
portant part  of  the  annals  of  every  country.  We  mean  not  the 
law  as  it  is  written,  but  the  law  as  it  is  applied  and  executed— 
not  the  letter,  but  the  spirit — not  the  statute,  but  the  interpreta- 
tion— not  the  pompous  and  hollow  bill  of  rights,  but  the  daily 
practice  of  the  courts  in  regard  to  such  things  as  habeas  corpus^ 
trial  by  jury,  and  the  liberty  of  speech  and  of  the  press.  The 
law,  in  this  only  practical  sense  of  the  word,  reveals  the  inward 
life  and  true  character  of  a  people.     It  is  that  very  life  and  char- 

*  Cod:  VII.  24,  De  Scto  Claudiano  tollendo. 
t  Institut.  I.  22. 

i  The  whole  Theodosian  code  bears  witness  to  this.    It  is  a  collection  of  the 
constitutions  of  Christian  Emperors. 
§  Hist.  Juris.  §  ccclxxiii. 


OF  ROMAN  LEGISLATION.  529 

acter,  and  a  deputy  sheriff  may  know  more  about  them  than  a 
De  Lolme  or  a  Montesquieu.  It  is  true  that  the  history  of  the 
law,  in  this  way  of  considering  it,  has  very  seldom  been  written  ; 
and  that  of  the  civil  law,  especially,  as  Eichhorn  affirms,  until 
the  last  ten  years  of  the  last  century,  least  of  all.  A  dry  series 
of  enactments,  outlines  of  mere  positive  legislation,  were  record- 
ed in  chronological  order,  and  some  book  of  antiquities  used 
as  a  succedaneum  to  fill  up  the  skeleton  or  solve  the  riddles  it 
presented.  And  yet  the  history  of  Roman  legislation  is  the  most 
interesting  of  all  such  histories,  not  only  because  it  regards  the 
most  perfect  and  the  most  influential  of  all  systems  of  law,  but 
because  that  system  is  incontestably  the  great  intellectual  monu- 
ment of  the  conquerors  of  the  world.  Roman  literature,  pro- 
perly so  called,  is,  in  comparison  of  Greek  or  our  own  English, 
absolutely  mean.  The  very  language,  except  in  the  matter  of 
politics  and  law,  where  it  is  richer  even  than  the  Greek,*  is  the 
poorest  of  all — without  flexibility,  variety,  or  copiousness.  It  is, 
indeed,  impressed  with  the  majesty  which  belongs  to  dominion 
and  superiority  long  established  and  directed  by  a  grave  wisdom, 
and  the  love  of  order  and  civilization.  So  far,  we  assent  to  what 
Count  Joseph  de  Maistre  has  said  of  it,t  and  we  acknowledge 
its  fitness  to  be  the  language  of  the  Church  and  the  State,  of 
archives  and  monuments.  It  is,  too,  in  possession — it  is,  empha- 
tically, as  he  calls  it,  le  signe  European — the  language  which 
medals,  coins,  trophies,  tombs,  primitive  annals,  laws,  canons, 
which  every  thing  in  short,  dear  and  venerable  to  the  modern 
man,  speaks,  and  a  familiar  knowledge  of  which  is  quite  indis- 
pensable to  many  other  kinds  of  knowledge,  that  of  the  civil 
law,  for  example.  But  in  every  department  except  that  of  legisla- 
tion, and  (if  they  be  worth  adding)  agriculture  and  satiric  poetry, 
Roman  genius  was  stamped  with  a  marked  inferiority ;  it  was 
tame,  servile,  and  imitative,  even  to  plagiarism — no  depth,  no  pa- 
thos, no  originality — nothing  national,  spontaneous,  and  awaken- 
ing. The  numerisque  fertur  Lege  solutis,  is  not  for  it — it  walks 
forever  as  in  the  bonds  of  the  law,  and  under  the  yoke  of  disci- 
pline. Their  historians  we  consider  as  falling  properly  within 
our  exception.  Tacitus,  a  leading  advocate,  certainly  does — so 
does  Sallust,  as  his  proemes  show — even  Livy,  their  great  epic 
poet,  (history  is  their  true  and  only  Epopee,)  with  his  native,  kind- 
ling unaffected  eloquence,  and  his  matchless  gift  of  picturesque 
description,  is  thoroughly  Roman,  formed,  as  it  were,  in  the  Fo- 
rum and  the  Campus  Martius,  and  glorying  in  the  Republic  as  a 

*  For  populus  and  plebs,  the  Greek  has  only  Sy^os  ;  for  lex  and  jus,  only 
vo/jloj:,  &c. 

t  Du  Pape,  v.  1.  199.  Let  any  one  who  doubts  our  general  proposition  only- 
read  Cicero's  philosophical  works. 

vol.  i. — 67 


530  ORIGIN,  HISTORY  AND    INFLUENCE 

government  of  laws,  not  men.*  But  in  art  and  poetry,  strictly  so 
called — we  do  not  speak  of  mere  elegance  or  urbanity,  wit  or 
delicacy  of  sentiment — they  have  nothing  to  match  with  the 
mighty  minds  of  other  times — no  Dante,  no  Milton,  no  Shaks- 
peare,  no  Homer,  no  Pindar,  no  Plato,  no  Sophocles.  None  felt 
this  truth  more  sensibly  than  the  most  exquisite  of  critics  as  of 
writers,  Horace.  Perhaps  Lucretius  and  Catullus  ought  to  be 
excepted,  but  we  fully  subscribe  to  Niebuhr's  equally  just  and 
original  estimate  of  the  genius  of  Virgil,  to  whose  learning,  how- 
ever, he  does  homage,  and  whose  great  poem  is  one  of  his  au- 
thorities for  the  antiquities  of  Italy.t  But  in  law  and  govern- 
ment, no  less  than  in  arms,  the  Romans  were,  as  we  have  seen, 
the  mighty  masters  of  the  art  and  of  mankind.  Cicero  declares, 
that  the  contrast  between  their  legislation  and  that  of  every  other 
people,  made  the  latter  appear  positively  ridiculous  ;t  and  if  he 
could  say  so  at  so  early  a  period,  when  his  contemporary  Ser- 
vius  Sulpitius  had,  for  the  first  time,  given  something  like  a  phi- 
losophic cast  to  jurisprudence,  what  pomp  of  eulogy  would  he 
have  thought  too  labored  for  the  perfect  science  of  Paullus  and 
Ulpian  ?  He  that  wishes  to  know  what  Roman  genius  was, 
must  study  the  Corpus  Juris  Civilis,  and  the  remains  of  the 
great  jurisconsults,  with  Cicero  (our  best  guide  here)  and  the 
historians  :  he  that  wishes  to  know  what  it  was  not,  may  take 
the  whole  body  of  literature  besides,  beginning  with  Plautus, 
and  ending  with  Pliny  the  younger.  He  will  see  all  the  wisdom 
if  not  the  poetry  of  Virgil,  in  the  fine  lines  so  often  quoted,  clos- 
ing with, 

Tu  regere  imperio  populos,  Romane,  memento. 

If  the  laws  of  Rome  were  not  the  spontaneous  growth  of  her 
own  peculiar  civilization,  if  they  were  not  the  unaided  work  of 
her  own  wisdom,  then  never  was  seed  sown  in  a  more  congenial 
soil,  or  a  loan  paid  with  such  usurious  interest.  But  they  un- 
questionably were  so.  Her  philosophy  and  eloquence  were 
formed  by  Greek  sophists  and  pedagogues,  as  is  evident  from 
their  character  and  physiognomy ;  her  legislation,  both  in  its 
origin  and  in  its  perfection,  was  all  her  own. 

In  the  volume  at  the  head  of  this  article,  Hugo,  in  tracing  the 
history  of  that  legislation  from  the  earliest  times  to  the  reign  of 
Justinian,  divides  the  intervening  space  of  thirteen  centuries 
into  four  nearly  equal  periods.  The  first  extends  from  the  build- 
ing of  the  city,  to  the  laws  of  the  XII  Tables,  A.  U.  C.  303. 

♦Legum  poiius  quam  hominum  imperium.     1.  ii.  1. 

t  R.  G.,  v.  i.,  pp.  207.  529.  580. 

X  He  confines  his  panegyric  principally  to  the  XII  Tables,  De  Orator,  I.  44.  a 
well  known  passage,  Fremant  omnes  licet,  &c.  Including  Solon's,  Incredibileesl 
quam  sit  omne  jus  civile,  prseter  hoc  nostrum,  inconditum  ac  pene  ridicv.lum. 


OP  ROMAN  LEGISLATION.  531 

From  this  epoch  until  the  year  of  the  city  650,  is  the  second. 
The  third,  brings  us  down  to  the  reign  of  Severus  Alexander — 
A.  U.  C.  1000 — and  the  last  closes  all  with  the  legislation  of 
Justinian,  A.  U.  C.  1300.  It  is  scarcely  fanciful  to  liken  them 
to  the  four  analogous  periods  of  human  life,  and  to  call  them 
the  infancy,  the  youth,  the  manhood,  and  the  old  age  of  the 
Roman  Law.  The  history  of  each  of  these  periods  is  considered 
in  three  different  aspects.  Two  of  them,  the  original  sources  or 
acts  of  legislation,  (Quellen,)  and  the  development  given  to  them 
in  treatises,  etc.,  (Bearbeitung,)  constitute  its  external  history, 
The  third  is  the  state  of  the  law  itself,  with  its  maxims,  princi- 
ples, and  spirit,  at  the  close  of  each  period ;  and  this  is  its  internal 
history.  The  order  pursued  is  that  of  the  Institutes  of  Justinian, 
borrowed  from  those  of  Gaius,  beginning  with  Persons,  then 
proceeding  to  Things,  and  concluding  with  Obligations  and 
Actions.  We  can  easily  imagine  that  a  course  of  lectures,  fully 
developing  all  the  matters  treated  of  here,  would  leave  very  little 
to  be  desiderated  by  a  student  of  the  Roman  Law ;  but  the  reader 
of  this  Lehr-buch,  if  he  wishes  to  understand  the  true  spirit  of 
that  legislation,  must  come  prepared  with  the  knowledge  of  what 
Niebuhr,  Creuzer,  and  others,  have  done,  to  illustrate  the  antiqui- 
ties of  Rome. 

We  shall  address  our  observations,  in  the  first  place,  to  the 
legislation  of  the  first  five  centuries  of  the  city,  including  the 
first  and  a  considerable  portion  of  the  second  of  the  periods 
above  mentioned. 

But  it  will  be  necessary  to  premise  a  few  words  concerning 
the  source  of  all  that  legislation,  the  primitive  constitution  of 
Rome. 

That  constitution,  like  those  of  the  other  two  great  branches 
of  the  Indo-Germanic  race— the  Teutonic  and  the  Greek — was 
founded  on  the  sovereignty  of  the  tribe,  or  the  nation,  with  this 
difference,  that  in  Italy  the  principle  of  a  hereditary  chief  seems 
to  have  been  unknown.  He  was  elected  for  life,  by  a  community 
made  up  of  a  confederacy  of  clans*  or  gentes,  and  united,  as  in 
the  old  patriarchal  state,  the  functions  of  judge,  general,  and 
pontiff.  His  title  was  king;  but  his  power,  which  was  in  theory 
excessively  limited,  varied  with  the  measure  of  his  abilities  or 
popularity.  Thus,  the  elder  Tarquin  contrived  (as  may  happen 
in  the  best  regulated  commonwealths)  to  secure  the  election  of  a 
creature  of  his  own  to  succeed  him  ;  and  the  second  made  him- 
self, by  means  familiar  to  the  history  of  usurpation,  a  downright 
tyrannus,  according  to  the  most  approved  models  of  ancient 
Greece  or  modern  Italy.     The  king  was  surrounded — as  in  all 

*  We  use  the  word  clans  for  want  of  a  better.   Gibbon  translates  gens  "lineage;" 
but  that  word  suggests  no  precise  idea  of  corporate  unity.     Gens  was  a  collection 


532  ORIGIN,  HISTORY  AND    INFLULTSCE 

the  other  states  of  those  early  times — with  a  council  of  chief- 
tains, called  a  senate,  originally  no  doubt  the  heads  of  the  clans 
or  gentes,  who  received  this,  with  other  badges  of  a  conceded 
superiority,  according  to  the  established  usages,  and  from  the 
common  consent  of  the  clan.  Originally,  the  Roman  people 
consisted  of  but  one  tribe — the  Ramnenses.  By  the  treaty  with 
the  Sabines,  under  Tatius,  they  admitted  another — the  Titenses— 
and  these  two  constituted  the  major es gentes.  Subsequent  events, 
probably  some  war,  made  the  addition  of  a  third  necessary — 
the  Luceres— but  this,  until  the  time  of  the  XII  Tables,  was 
considered  as  inferior  to  the  other  two,  denied  certain  privileges, 
and  called  the  minores  gentes.  These  three  tribes,  thus  united, 
composed  the  whole  people,  (populus,)  which  was  divided  into 
thirty  curiae,  ten  to  each  tribe,  and  these  curiae  again  were  sub- 
divided each  into  a  hundred  gentes,  clans,  or  lineages,  compre- 
hending under  them  families  more  or  less  numerous,  subject  to 
the  authority  of  their  several  p aires  familias — not  fathers  simply, 
but  fathers  emancipated  from  the  power  of  their  own.  The  king, 
when  at  the  head  of  his  army  in  the  field,  had  an  absolute  com- 
mand ;  the  authority  of  a  senate  of  three  hundred  chiefs  of 
gentes  or  clans,  was  of  course,  very  great,  in  a  patriarchal  state 
of  society  ;  but  the  sovereign  legislative  as  well  as  judicial  power, 
in  the  last  resort,  resided  in  the  general  assembly  of  the  Curies 
or  wards,  called  the  comitia  cnriata,  to  which  none  could  be 
admitted  but  as  a  member  of  a  gens  or  lineage.  By  continual 
wars,  however,  the  Romans,  according  to  their  original  and  con- 
stant policy,  made  great  accessions  to  their  population,  there 
formed  itself,  it  is  believed,  under  Ancus  Martins,  a  distinct 
community,  excluded  of  course  from  the  privileges  of  the  gentes, 
and  standing  towards  them  in  precisely  the  same  relation  as 
the  nobles  of  terra-firma,  under  the  constitution  of  Venice,  to 
the  patricians  of  the  city.  This  community  constituted  the 
plebs — whom  we  do  not  call  plebeians,  because  the  present  ac- 
ceptation of  that  word  suggests  false  ideas  of  the  composition  of 
the  Roman  commons,  shut  out  by  this  Serratura  del  consiglio. 
They  were,  many  of  them,  rich  and  noble — all  of  them  a  robust 
yeomanry— and  not,  as  has  been  thought,  an  ignorant,  depraved, 
and  rapacious  rabble,  led  by  ambitious  and  Jacobinical  adven- 
turers. 

In  the  nature  of  things,  the  numbers  of  the  three  tribes  would, 
in  the  lapse  of  ages,  have  dwindled  into  a  miserable  oligarchy, 
had  it  not  been  for  three  institutions  of  very  great  political  im- 
portance at  Rome.  These  were,  adoptions,  the  emancipation  of 
slaves,  and  the  relation  of  patron  and  client.  By  the  first,  a 
childless  parent  was  enabled  to  perpetuate  his  family  ;  and  it  was 
the  haughty,  perhaps  the  singular  boast  of  the  Claudii,  that  no 
such  mixture  had  ever  contaminated  their  blood.    By  the  second, 


OF  ROMAN  LEGISLATION.  533 

the  freedman  assumed  the  name  and  enjoyed  the  privileges  of 
the  gens  or  lineage  of  his  benefactor ;  and  the  third,  although 
left  by  Niebuhr  still  clouded  with  some  obscurity,  certainly 
clothed  the  chief  to  whom  fealty  was  due  in  attributes  and  se- 
cured to  him  rights,  strikingly  analogous  to  those  of  the  feudal 
lord.  Hugo  is  of  opinion  that  the  importance  of  the  second  of 
those  institutions  has  not  even  yet  been  sufficiently  appreciated ; 
and  we  may  fairly  set  down  the  distinction  between  the  clients 
of  the  chiefs  of  gentes  and  the  independent  and  high-minded 
plebs  to  whom  they  were  constantly  opposed,  and  by  whom  they 
were  cordially  detested,  as  one  of  the  discoveries  of  Niebuhr. 
That  the  emancipation  of  the  slave  should  make  him  at  once  a 
citizen,  (especially  where  the  plebeian  was  excluded,)  might  strike 
us  as  a  singular  exception  from  that  pride  of  privilege  and  that 
bigotry  of  race  which  were  the  peculiar  characteristics  of  the 
ancient  world.  But  besides  that  Rome  has  always  been  celebra- 
ted for  her  comparative  liberality  in  this  respect,  there  were  two 
considerations  that  predisposed  the  patrician  master  to  admit  into 
the  bosom  of  the  state,  the  servant  whose  conduct  in  the  family 
had  deserved  his  esteem  or  his  gratitude.  The  first  was  that,  in 
those  early  times,  his  bondmen  were  generally  of  the  same  race 
with  himself — the  Sabine,  the  Latin,  the  Tuscan  captive — brave 
men,  placed  at  his  mercy  by  the  chances  of  war,  to  which  he 
was  himself  subject,  and  accustomed  to  eat  at  his  table  and  labour 
by  his  side  in  his  rural  occupations — very  different  from  the  dis- 
solute and  barbarous  rabble  who  were  let  loose,  in  later  times, 
by  thousands,  upon  the  city,  and  whose  manumission  was  re- 
strained, or  whose  rights  as  freedmen  were  limited,  by  the  legis- 
lation of  Augustus*  and  Tiberius.t  The  other,  and  doubtless 
the  stronger  motive,  was  to  preserve  the  political  importance  of 
the  gens  or  clan.  This  motive  became  every  day  more  active 
in  proportion  to  the  rapid  increase  of  the  plebs,  who  were,  at  the 
end  of  two  centuries,  numerous  enough  to  demand  and  obtain 
admittance  into  the  state.  This  was  effected,  if  we  are  to  be- 
lieve the  traditions,  by  Servius  Tullius ;  and  it  was  effected  by 
that  very  measure  which  has  generally  been  regarded  as  a  clever 
contrivance  to  cheat  the  poorer  classes  out  of  their  relative  influ- 
ence in  society.  The  truth  is,  as  we  have  said,  that  he  destroyed 
the  aristocracy  as  such — -.or  what  is  the  same  thing,  he  changed 
entirely  its  principle.  The  distinction  of  race  and  clan  was 
abolished — the  Curice,  except  for  some  religious  or  what  we 
should  call  ecclesiastical  purposes,  were  superseded,  and  gradually 
sank  into  a  sham  meeting  of  thirty  lictors — the  plebs  had  a  voice 
in  the  legislature — and  wealth,  in  whatever  hands  it  might  be 

*  By  the  Lex  iElia  Sentia,  A.  TJ.  C.  757,  and  the  Lex  Fusia  Caninia,  A.  U.  C. 
761,  both  repealed  by  Justinian, 
t  By  the  Lex  Junia  Norbana,  A.  TJ.  C.  772. 


534  ORIGIN,  HISTORY  AND    INFLUENCE 

found,  gave,  in  the  comitia  centuriata,  more  weight  to  its  pos- 
sessor just  in  the  ratio  of  his  contributions  to  support  the  state.* 
Practically,  it  is  true,  the  change  was  not  a  complete  revolution. 
The  patricians,  now  associated  with  the  leaders  of  the  plebs, 
being  by  far  the  most  opulent  part  of  the  community,  and  having 
a  command  of  all  the  means  necessary  to  continue  so,  main- 
tained their  ascendant,  with  the  exception  of  some  rare  intervals, 
to  the  very  last.  Sail  list  declares,  in  the  seventh  century,  that 
he  selects  the  Jngurthine  War  for  a  subject,  because  (among 
other  reasons)  then,  for  the  first  time,  resistance  was  made  to 
the  insolent  domination  of  the  aristocracy  ;t  in  spite  of  the  seven 
elections  of  Marius,  the  consulship  was  considered  as  defiled  by 
a  novns  homo  when  Arpinum  was  again  honored  in  the  person 
of  Cicero ;  and  the  nobility,  patrician  and  plebeian,  entirely  en- 
grossed the  direction  of  public  affairs,  until  Caesar — himself  one 
of  the  proudest  of  them — smote  them  with  the  edge  of  his  vic- 
torious sword  at  Pharsalia,  and  prepared  for  their  shattered  bands 
a  yet  darker  day  and  more  irreparable  doom  at  Philippi. 

After  the  expulsion  of  the  Tarquins — as  in  England,  after 
that  of  the  Stuarts — the  aristocracy,  who  were  really  the  govern- 
ment, became  more  haughty  and  exclusive  than  ever,  but,  at  the 
same  time,  more  simple  in  life,  more  severe  in  morals,  and  more 
stern  in  discipline.  The  power  of  the  kings,  and  the  insignia  of 
royalty,  descended  scarcely  diminished,  though  divided,  upon 
the  consuls  ;  and  the  patricians,  as  a  class,  gained  as  much  as 
their  temporary  chiefs  lost,  by  this  rapid  rotation  in  office.  The 
plebs,  now  the  democracy,  was  decidedly  less  favored  than  it 
had  been  under  the  monarchy,  and  very  naturally  inclined  to  re- 
store it  in  the  person  of  Sp.  Cassius.  At  length,  however,  they 
secured  the  election  of  their  tribunes  by  the  comitia  tributa  ;  and 
it  was  not  long  before  the  resolves  of  that  assembly  were  declared 
to  be,  as  much  as  those  of  the  comitia  centnriata,  the  supreme 
law.  In  the  former,  the  people  met  and  voted  per  capita, 
and  not  in  classes  arranged  according  to  property:  they  were 
convened  by  a  plebeian  magistrate,  who  had  the  initiative  and 
presided  over  them ;  and  they  were  not  at  the  mercy  of  the  au- 
gur and  his  birds,  for  the  time  or  the  duration  of  their  meetings. 
Armed  with  the  veto  of  their  tribunes  for  defence,  and  with  the 
vote  of  their  assembly  for  attack,  and  constituting  an  immense 
majority  of  the  whole  nation,  it  might  have  been  supposed  that 
they  would  soon  have  taken  undisputed  possession  of  the  repub- 
lic.    But,  as  we  have  seen,  this  was  very  far  from  being  the  case. 

*  Yet  the  influence  which  the  patricians  derived  from  the  votes  of  their  clients 
in  the  centuries,  is  shown  by  the  first  Publilian  rogation,  and  explained  by  Nie- 
buhr.  The  plebs  were  husbandmen,  attending  the  comitia  only  at  intervals :  the 
freedmen,  &c,  were  always  in  town. 

t  Bellum  Jugurthinum,  C.  5. 


OP  ROMAN  LEGISLATION.  535 

It  is  beside  our  present  purpose  to  explain  this  singular  phenom- 
enon, which  would  be,  indeed,  to  write  the  history  of  Rome  ;  but 
we  cannot  do  justice  to  our  subject,  without  touching  upon  two 
of  the  causes  which  most  powerfully  contributed  to  maintain,  for 
four  centuries  together,  a  mixed  government,  and  to  insure  to  it 
a  more  extended  dominion  and  a  more  permanent  influence,  over 
the  destinies  of  the  world,  than  any  other  people  ever  exercised. 
The  first  of  these  causes  was  the  constitution  and  the  author- 
ity of  the  senate,  now  made  up  of  all  the  notability  plebeian* 
as  well  as  patrician,  who  had  held  curule  offices.  It  is  generally 
supposed  that  this  august  body  had,  until  the  age  of  Tiberius,  no 
legislative  power ;  but  whatever  may  have  been  the  theory  of 
the  constitution,  it  was  most  certainly  otherwise  in  practice. 
But,  even  had  its  attributes  as  a  legislature,  in  all  ordinary  cases,t 
been  less  clearly  defined,  the  immense  variety  and  importance  of 
its  functions,  as  the  supreme  executive  council,  could  not  fail  to 
give  it  a  controlling  influence  over  the  affairs  of  the  common- 
wealth, and  make  it,  in  effect,  the  sovereign  power.  No  one  can 
look  at  the  working  of  our  own  federal  government,  or  at  that 
of  the  French  monarchy  in  the  hands  of  Louis  Philippe,  with- 
out perceiving  that,  if  the  legislative  body  have  no  means  of 
changing  the  ministry — as  the  house  of  commons  always  has 
had — in  other  words,  if  that  body  do  not  to  a  certain  extent  par- 
ticipate in  the  exercise  of  the  executive  power,  it  must  and  will 
be  controlled  by  it,  and  become  subordinate  to  it.  Now,  the 
Roman  Senate  was  a  permanent  and  independent  ministry,  with 
every  thing  in  its  constitution  and  its  composition  to  clothe  it  in 
the  most  imposing  authority,  and  vested  with  all  the  powers  best 
fitted  to  enslave  to  its  will  the  ambitious  aud  leading  spirits  ot 
the  commonwealth.  It  had  power  to  declare  war  and  conclude 
peace,  to  raise  armies,  to  judge  of  the  necessity  of  proclaiming  a 
dictator,  to  levy  taxes,  to  take  charge  of  and  lease  the  public 
lands,  to  farm  out  the  revenues,  to  give  up  to  the  soldiers  or  to 
withhold  from  them  the  booty  taken  by  their  armies  in  war.  In 
later  times  it  exercised,  though  under  the  nominal  control  of  the 
people,  the  superintendence  of  religion  and  its  ceremonies,  the 
distribution  of  the  governments  of  the  provinces  and  of  the  com- 
mand of  armies,  the  keeping  and  appropriation  of  the  public 
moneys.  It  exercised  jurisdiction  over  all  Italy,  it  had  the  admin- 
istration of  all  foreign  affairs,  the  receiving  and  sending  of  am- 
bassadors, the  conferring  of  the  title  of  king  upon  meritorious 
allies.  It  determined  the  time  of  holding  assemblies  of  the  peo- 
ple, and  prepared  the  business  to  be  discussed  and  disposed  of 
there.     It  could  grant  or  refuse  the  triumph  to  the  victorious 

*  The  majority  of  the  illustrious  historical  names  of  the  later  times  of  Rome, 
are  of  plebeian  race,  though  of  noble  families — Decii,  Domitii,  Catos,  &c. 
tDionys.  1.  II.  14,  and  cf.  Hugo,  p.  410. 


536  ORIGIN,  HISTORY  AND    INFLUENCE 

general,  and  could,  by  means  of  the  terrible  dent  operant — ne 
quid,  etc.,  (their  suspension  of  habeas  corpus,)  clothe  the  consuls, 
praetors,  and  tribunes,  with  absolute  power.*  Added  to  all  this, 
and  more  by  far  than  any  single  prerogative,  the  judicial  power 
was,  until  the  time  of  the  Gracchi,  vested  exclusively  in  them. 
The  selecti  judices,  answering  to  our  juries,  were  drawn  from 
their  order.  The  importance  of  this  union  of  the  executive  with 
the  judicial  power  need  not  be  dwelt  upon  ;  but  it  is  worth  men- 
tioning that  Tacitus  expressly  declares  it  to  have  been  the  great 
issue  between  Marius  and  Sylla.t 

But  another  source  of  influence  for  the  patricians,  and  check 
upon  the  power  of  the  democracy,  is  to  be  found  in  the  fact  that, 
among  a  people  of  all  others  most  governed  by  their  religion, 
(such  as  it  was,)  and  by  the  love  of  order  and  law,  that  class 
were  the  hereditary  priests  and  jurists  ot  the  Republic,  until  the 
fifth  century  of  its  history.  They  were  its  Ulema,  a  power  be- 
hind the  throne,  greater  than  the  throne  itself. 

The  legislation  and  history  of  Rome  are  altogether  unintelli- 
gible, without  a  distinct  apprehension  of  the  causes,  the  extent, 
and  the  consequences  of  this  extraordinary  influence.  Whatever 
is  most  characteristic  in  the  old  law  is  intimately  connected  with 
it.  The  very  definition  of  jurisprudence  in  the  beginning  of  the 
Institutes  bears  testimony  to  its  importance^  All  nations  are 
governed  more  by  manners  and  opinions  than  by  laws,  and  the 
Romans  above  all  other  nations.  But  their  manners  and  opin- 
ions were  formed  and  directed  by  this  caste  of  lawyer-priests,  an 
institution  quite  oriental,  transmitted  to  them  through  Tuscany, 
at  once  by  inheritance  and  by  education.  The  Greek  writers  of 
Roman  history,  without  being  at  all  aware  of  the  cause,  are 
unanimous  in  their  views  of  the  fact,  and  of  its  incalculable  ef- 
fects upon  the  whole  system  of  the  life,  the  legislation,  and  the 
government  of  the  "People-King."  In  every  part  of  their  annals, 
from  the  earliest  struggles  of  the  plebs,  in  the  freshness  and 
vigor  of  youthful  health  and  enthusiasm,  under  their  immortal 
tribunes,  down  to  periods  of  degeneracy  and  servitude,  the  same 
spirit  is  every  where  visible.  Religion,  law,  subordination,  or 
all  these  names  in  one,  discipline,  civil  and  military,  at  home 
and  abroad — "this  was  their  sorcery."  Created  to  teach  the  law 
to  all  coming  time,  they  regarded  it  with  instinctive  awe,  ap- 
proached its  oracles  as  those  of  their  Gods,  and  yielded  to  it  a 
devoted,  yet  magnanimous  and  enlightened  obedience.  Hence 
it  was  that  revolution  after  revolution  occurred  ;  that  the  assem- 
blies of  the  Curiae  were  superseded  by  those  of  the  Centuries, 
and  these  in  turn  overshadowed  by  those  of  the  Tribes ;  that  the 
veto  of  a  single  tribune,  clothed  himself  in  no  armor  but  that  of 

*  Schlosser.  t  Tac  Ann.  1.  XII,  61, 

;  Jurisprudentiaestdivinarum  et  humanarum  rerum  notitia,  &c. 


OP  ROMAN  LEGISLATION,  537 

religion,*  could  bring  on  universal  anarchy  by  preventing  all 
elections,  and  leaving  every  office  vacant;  that  repeated  seces- 
sions of  the  plebs  to  the  mountain  appropriately  called  sacred,  or 
to  the  Janiculum,  took  place  ;  that  for  centuries  together  the  story 
of  Roman  politics,  omitting  the  wars  altogether,  is,  in  the  hands 
of  Livy,  and  even  of  Dionysius,  by  far  the  most  thrilling  and 
sublime  of  historical  romances,  and  yet  that  in  the  midst  of  so 
many  elements  of  disorder  and  violence,  not  one  drop  of  blood 
was  shed  in  civil  war,  and  the  glorious  commonwealth, 

Rising  in  clouded  majesty,  at  length 
Apparent  Glueen,  unveiled  her  peerless  light. 

When  we  come  to  speak  of  the  union  of  races  out  of  which  the 
Roman  people  sprang,  we  shall  have  a  better  opportunity  of  de- 
veloping the  influence  of  this  most  striking  of  all  their  character- 
istics ;  but  we  may  add  here  a  single  illustration  of  it.  It  is  the 
use  made,  in  their  domestic  contentions,  by  the  old  consuls,  of 
the  rgariurixog  bgxoc;  the  oath  which  bound  the  soldiers  to  obey  the 
generals,  and  to  follow  and  defend  the  eagles  of  Rome.  Cincin- 
natus  opposed,  it  with  success,  to  the  veto  of  the  tribune,t  and  one 
of  the  weakest  of  those  adventurers,  who  disgraced  the  purple  of 
the  Csesars,  could  still  speak  of  it,  as  "the  holy  and  august  mys- 
tery of  the  Roman  Empire."}:  To  attach  all  the  importance  that 
is  due  to  the  effect  of  such  ideas,  we  are  to  remember  that  the 
whole  character  of  the  state,  and  the  very  organization  of  the 
classes  and  centuries,  were  purely  military. 

We  proceed,  now,  to  make  some  remarks  upon  the  legislation 
more  strictly  so  called,  of  the  same  period. 

The  laws  of  the  XII  Tables  are  recommended  to  our  most 
profound  attention,  or  rather,  as  things  stand,  to  our  special 
curiosity,  by  the  exalted,  if  not  extravagant,  encomiums  passed 
upon  their  wisdom  and  morality,  by  the  very  first  writers  of  the 
best  period  of  Roman  literature, — Cicero,  Livy,  and  Tacitus. 
But  they  have,  in  our  eyes,  an  attraction  more  powerful,  if  pos- 
sible, than  the  respect  which  they  commanded  in  subsequent 
times — it  is  their  connection  with  the  preceding.  We  regard 
them,  as  we  have  already  observed,  as  evidence  of  what  the  law 
was  under  the  government  of  the  kings,  and  from  the  very 
foundation  of  the  city.  They  were  evidently,  what  Lord  Coke 
pronounces  Magna  Charta  to  be,  simply  declaratory.§  The  idea 
and  the  tradition,  that  they  were  fashioned  upon  the  model  of 
Solon's,  are  refuted — so  far  as  we  now  have  any  means  of  judg- 
ing— by  the  fact  that  there  is  no  resemblance  at  all,  but,  on  the 

*  He  was  inviolable,  sacromnctus. 
f  Dionysius,  X.  18. 

|  Herodian,  1.  vi.  7,  sub  fin.  hg  (hpxog)  sp  4%  Pojjaaiwv  a^%  Cs/avov  (xug-^iov. 
§  Montesquieu's  views  on  this  whole  subject  of  the  Decemviral  legislation  are 
excessively  unphilosophical  and  unsound.    Esp.  des  Lois,  1.  vi.  11. 
vol.  i. — 68 


539  ORIGIN,  HISTORY  AND  INFLUENCE 

contrary,  almost  a  perfect  opposition  between  them  in  all  the 
most  characteristic  features  of  legislation — in  the  "Rights  of  Per- 
sons" as  well  as  the  "Rights  of  Things."  Even  Dionysius  of 
Haliearnassus,  Greek  as  he  is,  does  not  pretend  to  more  than  an 
engrafting  of  some  foreign  laws  upon  the  established  customs 
of  Rome.*  He  expressly  ascribes  too,  and  we  have  no  doubt 
at  all,  ascribes  with  truth,  to  Romulus,  that  is  to  say,  to  imme- 
morial usage,  some  of  the  most  important  principles  of  the  law — 
the  patria  potestas,  for  example,  and  the  convent io  in  manum 
of  the  wife — of  both  of  which  he  speaks  in  terms  of  unqualified 
admiration.  No  one  can  read  the  second  book  of  his  Antiquities 
without  clearly  perceiving  that,  when  he  records  these  elements 
of  the  domestic  life  of  Rome,  he  expects  to  excite  in  his  reader 
the  incredulous  surprise  which  he  has  himself  felt  in  regard  to 
them.  But  we  do  not  stand  in  need  of  evidence  like  this.  Be- 
lieving, as  we  do,  that  no  such  thing  as  a  code  of  laws,  arbitrarily 
adopted  for  a  country,  a  code,  we  mean,  that  has  lived  through 
a  single  generation,  or,  indeed,  has  lived  at  all,  is  to  be  found  in 
the  (profane)  history  of  mankind — that  Locke's  constitution  for 
Carolina,  and  Citizen  Sieves'  litter  of  Constitutions  for  the  "Re- 
public One  and  Indivisible,"  are  types  of  them  all — we  should, 
a  priori,  venture  to  reject  all  such  stories  as  false  or  exaggerated. 
The  thing  has  never  happened  elsewhere — it  is  not  in  the  nature 
of  man  that  it  should  happen  anywhere — therefore,  it  did  not 
happen  there.  But  the  argument,  strong  as  it  would  be  in  the 
general,  is  irresistible  in  its  particular  application  to  Roman 
manners  and  legislation.  If  ever  there  was  a  people  that  adhered 
to  establishments ;  that  revered  the  past,  and  used  it,  at  once,  to 
awe  and  to  protect  the  present ;  that  had  faith  in  the  wisdom  of 
their  ancestors,  and  none  at  all  in  the  pretensions  of  political 
quacks  of  all  sorts — it  was  they.  Their  fundamental  maxim, 
as  Hugo  remarks  after  Appian,  was  melior  est  conditio prohibentis. 
Their  constitution  was  one  net-work  of  checks  and  counter 
checks.  A  reformer  was  not  exactly  required  to  propose  his  bill 
with  a  cord  round  his  neck,  as  Charondas  ordered  it,  but  unless 
things  were  clearly  ripe  for  its  adoption,  he  might  not  think  of 
carrying  it  out  without  a  struggle,  that  would  shake  the  Forum 
and  the  Campus  Martins — perhaps  the  state.  In  reading  Cicero, 
one  is  fatigued  with  the  citing  of  precedents  from  the  purer  days 
of  the  republic,  and  with  the  perpetual  recurrence  of  such  phrases 
as  more  majomm — veteri  consuetudine  institutoque  majorum. 
In  this  respect,  also,  as  in  so  many  other  points  of  Roman  his- 
tory, we  are  irresistibly  reminded  of  England  and  the  English 
race.  Niebuhr,  indeed,  goes  so  far  as  to  say,  that  the  Romans 
never  abolished  any  thing — that  their  institutions  were  all  suf- 

*  Ex  rs  <rcjv  ira<r£jwv  sdwv,  says  he.     1,  x.  55. 


OF  ROMAN  LEGISLATION.  539 

fered  to  live  out  their  time,  and  were  only  laid  aside  or  disused, 
when  there  was  no  longer  any  vitality  or  strength  in  them.* 
Perhaps  our  readers  will  see,  when  we  come  to  speak  of  the 
influence  of  Tuscan  manners  and  religion  on  the  character  and 
destinies  of  Rome,  how  it  was  that  the  state  was  thus,  as  it  were, 
consecrated — that  it  was  regarded  with  a  sort  of  Jewish  reverence, 
and  that  it  was  deemed  sacrilege  to  touch,  were  it  but  by  accident, 
the  ark  of  the  covenant,  with  unhallowed  hands.  This  aversion 
to  all  merely  speculative  innovation,  is  perfectly  irreconcilable 
with  their  constant  readiness  to  adopt  improvements,  tried  by 
experience,  or  imperatively  called  for  by  the  circumstances  of 
the  times,  which  was  equally  a  distinguishing  characteristic  of 
Rome.  No  people  ever  knew  better  how  to  follow  Time,  the 
mighty  reformer,  or  that  a  fro  ward  retention  of  customs,  as  Bacon 
profoundly  remarks,  is  itself  a  sort  of  innovation.  Accordingly 
this  trait  of  their  national  character  has  not  escaped  the  observa- 
tion of  Niebuhr,  and  there  are  few  passages  in  his  work  more 
vigorously  and  earnestly  written,  than  that  in  which  he  contrasts 
their  docile  wisdom,  with  the  bigotry  that  resists  all  progress, 
and,  as  it  were,  murders  improvement  in  the  womb.f 

The  same  writer  has  shown,  indeed,  that  the  occasion  of 
adopting  the  XII  Tables,  was  a  much  more  extraordinary  one 
than  has  been  commonly  imagined.  He  makes  it  out  very 
clearly  to  have  been  a  political  revolution^  and  that  the  aim  and 
the  issue  of  the  struggle,  which  led  to  the  appointing  of  the  De- 
cemvirs, was  not  merely  to  restrain  what  was  arbitrary  in  the 
judicature  of  the  counsels,  or  to  reduce  their  customs  to  a  written 
code,  but  to  bring  about  a  perfect  equality  among  the  different 
classes  of  society.*  According  to  his  masterly  exposition  of  the 
history  of  that  period,  as  well  as  from  the  tenor  of  Livy's  narra- 
tive, it  is  very  manifest  to  us  that  the  patricians,  whose  numbers 
had  been  fearfully  reduced  by  pestilence  some  years  before  these 
events,  never  afterwards  recovered  their  ground ;  that,  on  the 
contrary,  the  spirit  of  the  plebs  were  raised,  and  their  way  to 
the  consulship,  which  they  attained  through  a  series  of  triumphs 
in  the  course  of  the  century,  made  clear  and  comparatively 
smooth.  But  even  this  does  not  alter  the  case.  The  probability 
is  that  the  reforms  ascribed  to  Servius  Tullus — such  as  the  abo- 
lition of  the  nexus — which  had  been  defeated,  or  neglected  in 
practice,  were  at  least  as  extensive  as  these.  Nay,  he  actually 
did  effect  a  most  fundamental  revolution  in  the  state.  He  con- 
verted an  aristocracy  into  a  timarchy,  as  Solon  and  Cleisthenes, 
did,  and  considering  the  tradition  of  his  relation  to  the  elder 
Tarquin,  and  of  the  Corinthian  extraction  and  connections  of  the 
latter,  it  is  not  improbable,  from  this  perfect  coincidence  in  so  re^ 

*  R.  G.  I.  p.  2,  3.  t  lb.  II.  p.  509. 

t  With  some  few  exceptions,  they  effected  this. 


540  ORIGIN,  HISTORY  AND    INFLUENCE 

markable  a  point,  that  Greek  ideas  may  have  had  some  effect  in 
suggesting  the  form  of  classes  and  centuries.  Yet,  we  do  not 
hear  of  any  other  change  in  the  law  at  that  time  ;  and  still  less, 
of  a  new  and  an  imported  code.*  Admitting,  therefore,  as  we 
do,  that  the  laws  of  the  XII  Tables  were  a  magna  charta — a 
treaty  between  parties  in  arms  against  one  another — a  compro- 
mise between  real  powers,  and  so  a  constitution,  in  the  only  pro- 
per sense  of  the  word — still  it  does  not  follow,  us  we  have  seen 
in  that  memorable  case,  that  there  was  any  material  alteration  of 
the  laws,  beyond  the  particular  abuses  that  provoked  the  struggle, 
and  were  redressed  by  it.  The  revolution  of  1688  in  England 
and  our  own  revolution  are  additional  examples  of  the  same 
kind.  In  short,  we  consider  the  XII  Tables  as  a  statute  decla- 
tory  of  the  old  common  law  of  Rome,  and  say  of  it,  as  Livy  says 
of  the  supposed  obligations  of  Numa  to  the  philosophy  of  Pytha- 
goras, that  they  were  due  not  to  foreign  wisdom,  but  to  the  stern 
and  rude  discipline  of  the  old  Sabines.t  The  legislation  of 
Rome  was,  we  repeat  it,  entirely  peculiar  and  indigenous — as 
much  so  as  the  organization  and  the  discipline  of  the  Legion. 
Certainly  in  thatnge  when  Athens  was  in  all  her  glory,  under 
the  administration  of  Pericles — only  thirteen  years  before  the 
Peloponnesian  war,  and  in  the  midst  of  a  constant  intercourse 
between  Greece  and  her  numerous  colonies  in  Italy — no  one  can 
doubt,  as  Niebuhr  insists,  that  they  had  every  means  of  learning 
what  was  the  legislation  of  her  renowned  lawgivers.  But  there 
is  nothing  but  the  loosest  tradition  to  show  that  they  turned 
those  means  to  any  practical  account,  while  all  internal  evidence 
is  against  it.  To  us  one  fact  alone  is  decisive  of  the  whole  ques- 
tion. It  is  the  very  one  adduced  by  that  great  man  to  show  that 
the  laws  of  the  two  last  of  the  XII  Tables,  savage  and  strange 
as  they  appear  to  us,  could  not  have  struck  the  Romans  in  the 
same  way,  because  they  were  never  repealed.  Not  only  so,  but 
they  were,  for  centuries  together,  the  object  not  merely  of  rever- 
ential obedience,  but  of  studied  panegyric.  Now  we  go  farther  : 
we  affirm  that  this  fact  is  conclusive  to  show  that  those  provi- 
sions were  such  as  the  people  had  been  accustomed  to  from  time 
immemorial  :  more  especially,  if  we  consider  the  laws  themselves, 
as  we  have  just  remarked,  in  the  light  of  a  compromise,  extorted, 
by  the  body  of  the  plebs,  from  a  decayed  and  enfeebled,  though 
not  dispirited,  oligarchy.     Montesquieu  long  ago  observed,  of  the 

*  See  the  speech  of  Servius  Tullus,  Diunys.  IV.  p.  10,  which  is  a  programme 
of  all  future  reforms — public  lands— debtor  and  creditor,  &c.  The  expression 
for  the  Nexi  is  well  chosen,  fuj^e'va  davs^siv  z*\  tfwjxatfiv  eXsvGsgoig.  The 
historian  makes  him  refer  to  the  legislation  of  foreigners — with  a  view — 
not  to  the  dsufax&sia  of  Solon — but  to  his  classification  of  citizens  accord- 
ing to  taxable  property. 

tDisciplina  tetrica  et  tristi  veterum  Sabinorum,  1.  1.  c.  18. 


OF  ROMAN  LEGISLATION.  541 

laws  limiting  the  rate  of  interest,  that  the  Decemvirs — the 
haughtiest  of  aristocrats — never  wrote  any  such  law.  He  was, 
without  knowing  how,  right  to  a  certain  extent.  They  wrote  it 
only  on  compulsion.  The  day — the  ineluctabile  tempus — was 
come,  when  it  must  be  written.  It  was  already  passed  into  law 
in  men's  minds,  and  it  took  its  place  naturally,  by  the  side  of  the 
immemorial  usages  and  maxims  recorded  with  it,  on  those  tables 
of  brass  or  ivory.  But  it  is  utterly  inconceivable  that  the  XII 
Tables  should  have  been,  in  the  main,  more  than  a  declaratory 
act,  when  we  consider  that  the  overthrow  of  those  odious  tyrants, 
and  the  popular  vengeance,  justly  exercised  upon  them,  had  no 
effect  whatever  in  suspending  the  execution  or  impairing  the 
authority  of  their  laws.  The  abolition,  some  years  after,  and 
not  without  a  vehement  struggle,  by  the  Canuleian  rogation,  of 
the  clause  prohibiting  marriages  between  patricians  and  plebei- 
ans, is  an  exception  that  proves  the  rule.  We  cannot  doubt  but 
that  such  marriages  were  unlawful  from  the  beginning,  as  incon- 
sistent with  the  first  principles  and  whole  economy  of  the  Roman 
constitution,  in  its  primitive  state.* 

Whether  we  consider  the  XII  Tables  as  showing  what  the 
law  had  been  from  the  beginning  of  the  first,  or  what  it  con- 
tinued to  be,  with  no  very  important  changes,  until  towards  the 
end  of  the  second  period  of  its  history,  according  to  the  distri- 
bution of  Hugo — whether  we  look  upon  them,  with  Tacitus,  as 
the  last  act  of  equitable  legislation,  or  with  Livy,  as  the  source 
of  all  the  subsequent  jurisprudence  public  and  private  of  Rome — 
we  must  equally  regret  that  this  precious  monument  is  come 
down  to  us  a  mere  fragment.  Thirty-five  precepts,  contained  in 
not  many  more  lines,  are  all  the  remains  of  it  that  learned  in- 
dustry has  been  able  to  glean  from  the  whole  field  of  ancient 
literature.  To  these  must  be  added  the  substance  of  some  others 
preserved  by  writers  who  had  occasion  to  refer  to  them.  This 
is,  indeed,  miserably  unsatisfactory,  for  the  curiosity  naturally 
inspired  by  a  relic  of  such  capital  importance.  Yet  there  is 
enough  left  of  it  or  about  it,  to  reveal  the  spirit  of  the  ancient 
law  of  Rome,  and  to  show  how  remarkably  contrasted  it  is  with 
the  body  of  jurisprudence  collected  by  Justinian.  We  see  the 
rude  forms  of  process,  and  the  cruel  modes  of  execution.  We 
see  the  despotic  authority  of  the  father  over  the  son,  who  stands 
to  him  in  the  relation  of  a  chattel,  of  which  he  has  the  most  ab- 
solute disposal,  and  which  does  not  cease  to  be  his,  until  he  has 
alienated  it  three  several  times.  We  find  libels  punished  with 
death,  and  the  lex  talionis  enforced  for  a  broken  limb.  That 
most  terrible  of  all  the  scourges  of  the  poor  plebeian,  the  power  of 

*  See  the  speech  of  the  consuls,  Liv.  1.4.  c.  2.  Niebuhr,  R.  G.  I.  419.  Canu- 
leius,  in  his  harangue,  declares  that  it  was  an  innovation  of  the  Decemvirs.  Livy 
follows  Dionysius  1.  x,  c.  60. 


542  ORIGIN,  HISTORY  AND  INFLUENCE 

the  creditor  over  his  insolvent  debtor  is  maintained  in  its  utmost 
rigor.  The  latter  is  still  allowed  (and  it  seems  to  be  the  only 
form  of  contract  yet  in  use)  to  mortgage  his  life,  his  liberty,  his 
children,  to  the  lender;  and  if  the  Equi  and  Volsci,  in  their 
eternal  inroads,  lay  waste  his  little  farm,  or  he  is  compelled,  by 
being  enrolled  to  resist  those  enemies,  to  leave  his  ground  un- 
tilled,  or  his  crop  to  perish  for  want  of  tendance,  so  that  he  is 
unable  to  meet  his  engagements,  he  is  loaded  with  chains,  drag- 
ged to  the  market-place  to  see,  perchance,  if  others  will  have 
more  mercy  for  him  than  his  remorseless  master,  and,  in  case 
charity  or  friendship  do  not  enable  him  to  satisfy  the  demand, 
may  be  put  to  death,  or  sold  beyond  the  Tiber.  The  case  of 
many  creditors  having  liens  upon  the  same  bankrupt  body  oc- 
curs, and  provision  is  made  for  an  equitable  distribution  of  the 
assets  except  that  a  clumsy  dissection  is  excused  before-hand  by 
the  law,  with  an  indulgence  for  unintentional,  because  unprofita- 
ble inequality,  which  would  have  ravished  Shylock  into  ccstacy.* 
The  most  tender,  and  the  most  important  of  the  domestic 
relations,  is  regulated  in  the  same  stern  spirit  of  absolute  dominion 
in  the  father  of  the  family.  The  husband  acquires  his  wife  like 
any  other  property,  by  purchase  in  market-overt,  (coemptio,)  or 
by  a  statute  of  limitations,  (usu,)  after  a  possession  of  one  year, 
not  interrupted  for  three  nights  together  at  any  one  time.  There 
is  still  another  form,  consecrated  by  religion,  and  having  mystic 
reference,  says  Creuzer.t  to  agrarian  hieroglyphs  of  a  remote  an- 
tiquity. This  was  marriage  by  confarreatio,  or  the  eating  of  the 
salt  rice-cake  from  the  hands  of  the  pontiff,  in  the  presence  of 
witnesses.  The  nuptials  of  the  patricians,  as  a  caste  of  priests, 
were  originally  celebrated  in  this  way.  The  plebeian,  and,  gen- 
erally, most  usual  rite,  was  the  coemptio.  The  legal  effects, 
however,  of  the  three  forms  were  the  same,  (conventio  in  mu- 
rium ;)  the  wife  became  the  husband's  property,  and  inherited  of 
him  only  as  one  of  his  children.  Woman  was  condemned  by 
this  old  law  to  perpetual  incapacity;  as  a  daughter,  she  was  the 
slave  of  the  paternal,  as  a  wife,  of  the  marital  authority  ;  and  the 
death  of  the  father  or  the  husband  only  subjected  her  to  the  tu- 
telage of  a  kinsman.  This  tutelage,  which  is  at  best  one  of  the 
less  understood  points  of  jurisprudence,  was  of  course  mitigated 
by  the  progress  of  civilization,  and  the  influence  of  the  sex,  and 
ceased  entirely  during  the  fourth  period  of  our  history.  To  be, 
in  the  eye  of  the  law,  the  bond-slave  of  her  husband,  the  sister 
of  her  son,  is  a  theory  so  paradoxical  and  shocking,  that  nothing 

•As  to  this  celebrated  questio  vexata,  Hugo  concurs  with  Bynkershoeck,  that 
the  language  is  metaphorical.  Niebuhr,  on  the  contrary,  is  equally  positive  that 
the  literal  sense  is  the  proper  one,  R.  G.  ii.  670;  so  Gibbon  thinks,  or  seems  to 
think.     We  humbly  concur  with  the  latter. 

t  Symbolik,  B.  ii,  100.     We  follow  Gibbon  in  interpreting  far,  rice. 


OP  ROMAN  LEGISLATION.  543 

but  evil  and  disorder  might  be  anticipated  from  it ;  yet  Dionysius 
of  Halicarnassus  is  enraptured  with  its  effects  in  practice,  and 
they  were  unquestionably  good.  In  a  corrupt  age,  when  Au- 
gustus endeavored  by  the  severe  provisions  of  the  Julian  laws, 
and  the  lex  Papia-Poppcea,  to  restore  purity  of  morals,  and  to 
bring  marriages  again  into  fashion,  it  is  amusing  to  read  the  sage 
lamentations  of  the  libertine  Horace,  himself  a  bachelor,  over 
the  sanctity  of  the  marriage  bed,  and  the  fruitful  chastity  of 
those  happy  times,  so  entirely  obsolete  in  his  own.*  That,  in 
spite  of  all  that  the  law  could  do,  nature  asserted  for  the  sex  the 
influence  that  belongs  to  it  in  civilized  society,  is  clear,  from  the 
traditions  adopted  and  adorned  by  the  genius  of  Livy.  The 
question  of  the  wise  old  Spanish  monarch,  quien  es  ella,  would 
not  have  been  asked  in  vain  among  those  stern  warriors,  for, 
from  the  rape  of  the  Sabines  to  Theodora's  conquest  of  Justinian, 
woman  seems  to  have  been  at  the  bottom  of  almost  all  the  mem- 
orable events  of  Roman  story.  Lucretia,  Virginia,  Veturia,  Fabia 
the  wife  of  Licinius,  who  became  at  her  instigation  the  first 
plebeian  consul,  are  illustrious  examples  of  this ;  and  whatever 
may  be  the  changes  of  manners  and  opinions,  as  Hume  has  well 
remarked,  all  nations,  with  one  accord,  point  for  the  ideal  of  a 
virtuous  matron  to  the  daughter  of  Scipio  and  the  mother  of 
the  Gracchi.  The  extraordinary,  and  Montesquieu  thinks  in- 
credible, fact,  that  it  was  not  until  upwards  of  five  centuries 
were  elapsed,  that  a  divorce  was  heard  of  at  Rome,  is  evidence 
either  of  signal  purity  of  manners,  or  that  the  laws  were  wonder- 
fully accommodated  to  the  manners,  such  as  they  were. 

The  Roman  seemed  to  think  nothing  his  own  (except  acqui- 
sitions jure  belli)  but  what  he  might  call,  in  biblical  phrase,  "his 
money."  He  bought  his  wife,  he  bought  his  child  by  adoption — 
his  property  in  his  own  son  could  be  lost  only  by  repeated  sales; 
his  last  will,  which  he  was  authorized  by  the  XII  Tables  to 
make,  was  in  the  shape  of  a  transfer,  inter  vivos,  and  for  a  val- 
uable consideration,  to  a  nominal  purchaser,  like  the  conveyance 
to  a  use  for  that  purpose  before  the  statute  32  Henry  VIII.  This 
reveals  one  of  the  most  important  traits  of  the  Roman  character, 
its  avarice — or  it  may  be  only  an  overweening  sense  of  commu- 
tative justice.  They  exacted  inexorably  a  quid  pro  quo,  and 
held  no  sale  complete  until  the  price  was  received.  But  to  ac- 
quire the  property  of  a  Roman — to  hold,  as  they  termed  it,  not 
by  natural  law,  but  ex  jure  Quiritium — the  transfer  was  required 
to  be  made  with  the  solemnities  of  a  regular  mancipatio,  in  all 
cases  where  the  thing  was  important  enough  to  be  classed  with 
res  mancipi.  Since  the  real  Gaius  has  been  opened  to  us,  com- 
pared with  Ulpian  and  Mai's  palimpsests,  we  are  better  informed 
what  this  description  comprehends,  and  as  to  the  several  con- 

*  Od.  iii.  6.  24.  Epod. 


544  ORIGIN,  HISTORY  AND    INFLUENCE 

veyances  which  alone  were  effectual  to  divest  the  Roman  of  his 
privileged  proprietorship.  The  chief  of  those  was  the  mancipa- 
tion just  mentioned,  a  symbolical  sale,  in  the  presence  of  at  least 
five  witnesses,  all  Roman  citizens,  and  representing,  it  may  be, 
the  five  tax-paying  classes,  under  the  authority  of  a  pontiff  or 
some  other  public  officer,  whose  presence  gave  solemnity  to  the 
act,  and  whose  business  it  was  to  weigh  the  copper  (there  was 
as  yet  no  coin)  paid  as  the  price  {per  aes  et  libram).  This  sale, 
however,  though  it  were  regular  in  every  particular,  of  course 
transferred  no  property,  unless  there  were,  in  the  purchaser,  a 
capacity  to  take,  and  that  capacity  none  but  a  Roman  citizen 
could  have,  or  the  few  foreigners  who  were  favored  with  the 
rights  of  denizens  (Commercium).  It  is  our  purpose,  in  alluding 
to  these  principles  of  this  ancient  law,  only  to  show  how  strictly 
it  was  then  entitled  to  be  called  jus  civile,  and  how  very  far  re- 
moved it  was  from  the  catholic  and  comprehensive  system  which 
has  served  for  the  basis  of  modern  jurisprudence.  We  here 
see  that  the  very  property  of  a  Roman  was  peculiar  and  exclu- 
sive, and  we  shall  be  still  more  struck  with  its  privileged  charac- 
ter, if  we  consider  what  Niebuhr  has  brought  to  view,  as  to  the 
solemn  ceremonies  with  which  the  soil  of  the  ager  Romanus 
was  laid  out  and  limited  by  the  augurs.*  It  was  all  holy  ground, 
and  a  trespass  upon  it  was  sacrilege. 

Other  heads  of  the  XII  Tables  regard  inheritance  ab  intestate, 
and  the  appointment  of  tutors.  None  could  be  heir  to  a  Roman 
but  his  agnatL  (including  his  wife  in  manu  and  his  daughter,) 
and  no  inheritance  could  be  transmitted  through  females.  If 
there  were  no  agnati,  or  persons  of  the  same  family  tracing  their 
consanguinity  through  the  male  line,  the  estate  descended  to  the 
gentiles,  or  members  of  the  clan  or  lineage.  The  tutorship  was 
a  burthen,  or  a  privilege,  that  accompanied  the  right  of  inherit- 
ance, and  that  inheritance,  once  accepted  by  him  that  was  free  to 
refuse,  and  in  other  cases,  whether  accepted  or  not,  bound  the 
heir,  with  or  without  his  assent,  to  all  the  liabilities  of  the  de- 
ceased— a  stern  doctrine,  subsequently  modified  in  practice  and 
by  legislation. 

Penal  jurisprudence  was  never  a  very  important  part  of  the 
Roman  Law.  Several  causes  conspired  to  produce  this  effect, 
but  certainly  one  of  the  most  important  was  the  domestic  juris- 
diction of  the  father  of  the  family.  Thus  we  find,  in  the  XII 
Tables,  that  theft  is  made  in  some  cases  a  matter  of  private  ac- 
tion, as  it  continued  ever  after.  But  the  few  provisions  in  regard 
to  the  punishment  of  crimes,  that  are  to  be  found  among  these 
fragments,  are  in  the  true  spirit  of  Roman  discipline,  typified,  as 
Dionysius  remarks  with  complacency,  in  the  lictor  always  at  the 
consul's  beck,  ready  armed  with  the  rod  and  the  axe,  to  inflict 

•  R.  G.  ii.  695.  Anhang. 


OF  ROMAN  LEGISLATION.  545 

summarily  the  two  punishments  most  familiar  to  the  old  law. 
But  these"  laws  prohibited  the  staking  of  the  life  of  a  Roman 
except  by  the  sentence  of  the  people  met  in  the  great  assembly 
of  the  Centuries,  and  his  person  was  in  a  later  age  made  invio- 
lable by  the  Portian  and  Sempronian  laws.*  Sternness  and  even 
cruelty  in  the  execution  of  penal  laws,  and  in  enforcing  civil  and 
military  discipline,  continued  through  all  periods  to  characterize 
these  masters  of  mankind.  For  a  breach  of  that  discipline,  whole 
legions  were  sometimes  scourged  and  decapitated,t  and  he  that 
has  seen  by  the  light  of  history  Ruben's  master-pieces, — espe- 
cially the  "Elevation  of  the  Cross,"  and  the  "Breaking  of  the 
Legs,"  at  Antwerp — has  come  away  with  his  imagination  impres- 
sed forever  with  ideas  equally  just  and  frightful  of  the  muscular 
and  mighty  strength,  the  colossal  proportions,  and  the  barbarous 
hard  heartedness  of  Roman  domination— especially  as  contrasted 
with  the  meek  type  of  Christian  civilization  on  the  Cross. 

But  amid  provisions  like  these,  the  voice,  at  once,  of  political 
wisdom  and  of  everlasting  justice  speaks  in  the  interdiction  of 
all  privilegia,  or  bills  of  attainder  and  ex  post  facto  laws — of  all 
laws,  in  short,  made  for  a  particular  case.  The  fidelity  of  the 
client  is  encouraged  by  the  curse  pronounced  upon  the  unjust 
patron  (sacer  esto  !)  The  Libripens,  or  attesting  witness,  who 
refuses  to  give  testimony  before  the  Judge,  is  declared  for  ever 
infamous  and  incompetent  (improbus  et  intestabilis.)t  In  a  ques- 
tion involving  the  liberty  of  one  of  the  parties,  the  presumption 
is  in  favor  of  it.  It  is  from  such  precepts  that  we  ought,  in  fair- 
ness, to  judge  of  the  opinions,  as  we  have  seeij,  passed  upon  the 
legislation  of  the  XII  Tables  by  Tacitus  and  Cicero.  There 
were  doubtless  many  things  in  them  calculated  to  excite  the  ri- 
dicule (if  philosoph}^  ever  ridicules  what  has  been  venerated  by 
a  past  age)  of  a  more  refined  era ;  as  we  may  learn  from  a  well 
known  passage  in  Aulus  Gellius.§  Of  this  sort  are  the  sumptuary 
precepts,  relating  to  the  burying  of  the  dead,  which  are  still 
extant,  and  one  of  which  permits  the  body  of  the  deceased  to  be 
burnt,  or  interred,  even  with  the  gold  that  had  been  used  to  bind 
his  teeth  together. 

Such  were  the  XII  Tables ;  but  the  character  of  this  early 
jurisprudence  is,  of  course,  very  imperfectly  learned  from  the 
mere  letter  of  the  law.  The  important  question  how  it  was  in- 
terpreted and  enforced,  remains  to  be  answered. 

In  the  first  period,  the  Kings,  and  afterwards  the  Consuls,  ex- 
ercised the  functions  of  judges,  with  an  appeal,  in  capital  cases, 

*  There  is  something  hideous  in  the  very  title  of  the  Lex  Portia,  pro  tergo  civi- 
um  lata.  A.  TJ.  C.  452. 
t  Dionysius  XX.  7- 

;  The  words  are  &  formula  and  untranslateable.    See  Calvin's  Lexicon. 
§  Aul.  Gell.  20. 1. 
vol.  i. — 69 


546  ORIGIN,  HISTORY  AND    INFLUENCE 

to  the  people ;  but  a  form  of  judicature,  extremely  analogous  to 
our  trial  by  jury,  was,  in  process  of  time,  established  at  Rome. 
After  the  office  of  Prastor  was  instituted,  (A.  U.  C.  387,)  the  func- 
tions o(  the  magistrate  became  more  and  more  separated  from 
those  of  the  judge  of  the  facts.  This  admirable  system  of  a  sin- 
gle judge,  charged  under  an  undivided  responsibility  with  main- 
taining the  uniformity  of  the  rule,  while  the  application  of  it  to 
the  circumstances  of  the  case  was  left,  under  his  instruction,  to 
the  sound  discretion  of  others,  is,  no  doubt,  one  of  the  causes  of 
the  gradual  improvement  and  great  superiority  of  the  Roman 
law.  Of  the  edict  of  the  Praetor,  properly  so  called,  it  is  not  yet 
time  to  speak ;  but  as  our  observations  apply  to  the  first,  and  a 
great  part  of  the  second  period  of  Hugo's  division,  we  could  not 
avoid  this  allusion  to  the  selecti  judices.*  We  have  already 
mentioned,  that  they  were  drawn  from  the  senatorial]  order,  until 
the  rogation  of  C.  Gracchus  (A.  U.  C.  630)  transferred  the  judi- 
cial power  to  the  Knights. 

The  XII  Tables,  although  they  contained  many  provisions  on 
what  would  be  called  among  us  points  of  practice,  still  left,  in 
the  main,  much  to  be  done  by  the  courts  themselves,  in  building 
up  a  system  of  procedure  and  pleadings.  Accordingly,  it  has 
been  generally  thought  that  the  patricians,  combining,  as  we 
have  seen,  the  priest  and  the  lawyer,  and  transmitting  their 
knowledge,  as  an  occult  science,  to  their  successors  in  their 
caste,  contrived,  by  way  of  indemnity  to  their  own  order,  on 
losing  the  exclusive  legislative  power,  (in  which  the  plebs  were 
now  allowed  to  share,)  what  were  called  Legis  actiones.  This 
subject  is,  for  the  first  time,  placed  in  a  clear  light  by  Gains, 
who  treats  of  it  at  considerable  length  in  the  fourth  book  of  his 
Institutes,  (p.  190,  seqq.)  Unfortunately  there  are  several  chasms 
in  the  MS.,  which  render  even  his  account  of  it  less  perfect  than 
could  be  wished.  It  is  not  necessary  to  our  purpose,  to  enter 
into  any  detailed  analysis  of  the  different  species  of  these  ac- 
tiones legis,  but  simply  to  mention,  that  Gaius  suggests  as  one 
reason  why  they  may  have  been  called  so,  that,  like  our  indict- 
ments upon  penal  statutes,  they  were  required  to  conform,  with 
the  strictest  exactness,  to  the  very  words  of  the  law.  For  exam- 
ple, the  XII  Tables  gave  a  remedy,  in  general  terms,  against  a 
trespasser,  for  cutting  down  the  trees  of  another.  It  was  under- 
stood as  nomen  generalissimum,  and  yet  in  an  action  for  such 
an  injury  to  a  vineyard,  the  allegation  being  for  vites,  instead  of 
arbores,  it   was  held  bad.     The  result  was,  that  in  process  of 

*  On  this,  as  indeed  most  other  subjects  of  Roman  legislation,  Beaufort  may  be 
consulted  with  profit.  Republique  Romafne,  1.  v.  c.  2.,  or  Noodt  (on  whom  he 
relies,)  de  Jurisdict.  The  latter  thinks  the  division  between  the  magistrate,  (king 
or  consul,)  and  the  judge,  with  the  formula,  existed  before  the  XII  tables,  lb.  J.  I. 
c.  6. 


OF  ROMAN  LEGISLATION,  547 

time  these  forms  of  pleadings  all  fell  into  such  odium,  that  by 
the  iEbutian  and  the  two  Julian  laws,  they  were  entirely  abol- 
ished, and  formula,  of  a  more  convenient  kind,  substituted  for 
them.  It  is  easy  to  perceive  what  an  immense  control  an  entire 
monopoly  of  this  precious  science  of  special  pleading  (and  it 
extended  to  matters  of  voluntary  jurisdiction,  as  well)  must  have 
given  to  the  patricians  over  all  the  business  of  the  people.  But 
their  advantages  did  not  stop  there.  There  were  from  the  time 
of  Numa,  in  the  Roman  calendar,  a  great  number  of  dies  nefasti, 
or  dies  non,  as  we  believe  they  are  called  for  shortness  in  our 
courts.  These  were  known  to  the  pontiffs  only,  and  to  add  to 
the  embarrassment  of  the  uninitiated,  that  calendar  was  itself  so 
imperfect  as  to  require  frequent  intercalations  to  make  the  civil 
year  agree  with  the  course  of  the  sun.  The  Tuscans,  from 
whom  the  Romans  had  learned  all  the  little  astronomy  they  pos- 
sessed, had  taught  them  results  without  explaining  the  reasons, 
and  the  pupils  were,  of  course,  liable  to  commit  blunders,  in  the 
application  of  their  rules.  But  besides  errors  of  that  sort,  Nie- 
buhr  scruples  not  to  impench  their  integrity,  and  to  impute  to 
their  intrigue's  a  still  greater  confusion  in  the  "times,"  already 
sufficiently  "out  of  joint."  A  more  fearful  disorder  in  a  well- 
regulated  society  can  scarcely  be  imagined — the  case  was  still 
harder  with  the  plebs,  the  majority  of  whom  were  honest  farm- 
ers, coming  to  town  only  on  market  days,  and  not  having  much 
time  to  spare.  To  be  without  an  almanac  under  such  circum- 
stances were  bad  enough  ;  what  must  it  have  been  to  have  a 
false  one  ?* 

The  patricians,  it  is  true,  gave  the  information  and  advice 
needed  by  the  ignorant  in  such  matters,  gratis.  They  thought 
themselves  abundantly  compensated  in  the  influence  conferred 
upon  them  by  their  black  art.  But  their  "forensic  royalty,"  as 
Heineccius  calls  it,  was  not  to  last  long.  A  fellow  of  the  name 
of  Cn.  Flavius,  a  scrivener,  son  or  grandson  of  a  freedman,  had 
been  employed  by  the  renowned  Appius  Claudius,  the  Blind,  as  a 
clerk  or  secretary.  This  gave  him  an  opportunity,  of  which  he 
availed  himself,  to  copy  all  the  forms,  together  with  the  fasti,  and 
to  publish  them  for  the  benefit  of  mankind.  The  people  were  so 
grateful  to  him  for  the  unexpected  service,  that  he  was  created 
Edile.     This  is  the  Jus  Flavianum. 

It  is  an  ungracious  thing  to  spoil  a  good  story  ;  and  yet  there 
is,  it  appears  to  us,  a  great  deal  of  force  in  Hugo's  objections  to 
this.  (p.  450.)  But  this  strictness  in  pleadings,  so  strikingly 
analogous  to  that  of  our  old  common  law,  may  possibly  have 
proceeded  from  similar  causes.     Besides  the  influence  ascribed 

*Put  the  case  of  a  title  by  prescription,  or  by  the  statute,  as  it  is  called;  it 
would  manifestly  depend  in  some  measure  on  the  pontiff's  intercalation.  R.  G. 
I.  289. 


548  ORIGIN,  HISTORY  AND    INFLUENCE 

to  the  subtlety  of  Norman  clerks,  and  to  the  school  logic  intro- 
duced by  those  celebrated  churchmen,  Lanfranc  and  Anselm,  it 
is  certain  that  jury  trial  does  call  for  precision  of  statement,  and 
simplicity  in  the  issue.  Now,  the  Romans,  as  we  have  seen,  had 
a  sort  of  jury  trial,  of  uncertain  origin,  it  is  true ;  but  the  pre- 
sumption is,  as  Noodt  supposes,  that  it  was  almost  as  old  as  their 
law  itself.  If  that  was  the  case,  Montesquieu  may,  on  the  whole, 
be  right  in  his  manner  of  accounting  for  this  strictness  of  forms 
in  the  early  judicature  of  the  republic.  In  treating  the  question 
under  what  governments  and  in  what  cases,  judges  ought  to 
conform  most  strictly  to  the  letter  of  the  law,  he  remarks,  that 
in  monarchies,  judges  are  like  arbitrators  ;  they  deliberate  to- 
gether, they  communicate  their  ideas  to  one  another,  they  con- 
ciliate and  compromise.  At  Rome  and  in  the  Greek  cities,  in 
conformity,  as  he  affirms,  (though  we  do  not  exactly  perceive  it,) 
with  the  spirit  of  republicanism,  every  judge  gave  his  own  opi- 
nion categorically — i;I  acquit,"  :'I  condemn,"  "I  am  not  con- 
vinced." "It  is  because  the  people  judged,  or  was  supposed  to 
judge.  Now  the  people  are  no  jurisconsults  ;  all  these  tempe- 
raments and  modifications  of  arbitrators  are  not  for  them  ;  it  is 
necessary  to  present  to  them  a  single  object,  a  fact,  a  single  fact, 
&c."  He  then  goes  on  to  remark,  that  the  Romans,  after  the 
example  of  the  Greeks,  introduced  forms  of  action,  and  required 
that  every  cause  should  be  carried  on  in  the  appropriate  form. 
It  was  necessary  to  ascertain  and  fix  the  issue,  in  order  that  the 
people  should  have  it  steadily  in  view ;  otherwise,  in  the  course 
of  a  prolonged  inquiry,  the  state  of  the  question  would  be  contin- 
ually changing,  and  great  confusion  would  ensue.  The  Prae- 
tors invented,  in  later  times,  more  accommodating  forms,  and 
more,  as  he  supposes,  in  the  spirit  of  monarchy. 

There  is  undoubtedly — making  the  usual  allowance  for  some 
radically  false  notions  of  Montesquieu — a  good  deal  of  force  in 
this  observation  ;  and  we  will  just  add  here,  that  the  idea  is  strik- 
ingly illustrated  by  the  difference  between  the  two  sects  of  ju- 
risconsults, of  which  it  is  our  purpose,  if  our  space  admit  of  it, 
to  say  something  more.  Labeo,  the  republican,  adhered,  with 
his  followers,  to  the  rigid  logic  of  the  law — Capito,  the  creature 
and  the  tool  of  an  insidious  despotism,  always  favored  equity, 
'  and  dealt  in  temperaments  and  modifications.* 

But  the  Romans  did  not,  as  Montesquieu  supposes,  imitate  the 

*  Lest  we  should  not  have  another  opportunity,  we  adduce  as  an  illustration 
the  following  from  Gaius  himself,  one  of  the  Sabiniani  or  Cassiani.  Suppose  a 
son  delivered  up  ex  noxali  causa,  i.  e.  for  any  damages  done  another's  property, 
for  which  his  father  would  otherwise  be  liable,  must  he  be  emancipated  three 
times,  as  in  other  cases,  or  only  once  1  Three  times  ;  because  the  law  makes  no 
exception,  say  the  Proculiani—  once,  says  Cassius  and  Sabinus. — Gai.  Inst.  p. 
218.  This  tendency  began  with  Augustus,  and  prevailed,  as  we  have  seen,  ever 
after, 


OF  ROMAN  LEGISLATION.  549 

Greeks  in  this  respect.  If  they  were  not  led  to  it  by  motives 
growing  out  of  their  situation,  as  he  aims  to  show  they  were, 
they  followed  those  masters  in  whose  school  their  intellectual 
character  was  mainly  formed  and  that  superstitious  adherence  to 
forms  learned,  with  every  other  sort  of  superstition.  We  al- 
luded just  now  to  the  effect  of  Norman  manners  and  character 
in  England,  and  mentioned  the  subtlety  of  a  scholastic  clergy  as 
sharpening  the  acumen  of  the  special  pleader,  and  infecting  the 
common  law  with  the  spirit  of  chicane.  The  mixture  of  races 
in  that  island,  was  attended  with  consequences  of  the  greatest 
importance,  not  in  this  respect  alone,  but  in  many  others  which 
it  would  be  easy  to  point  out.*  But  the  sluggish,  though  firm, 
enduring,  and  robust  Anglo-Saxon,  did  not  gain  more  by  a  union 
with  the  subtle,  crafty,  rapacious,  and  adventurous  Norman,  than 
did  the  city  of  Romulus  and  Tatius — the  Latin  and  the  Sabine 
of  the  Palatine  and  the  Capitol — from  the  superior  civilization  of 
that  mysterious,  unfathomable  Tuscany — darker,  says  Niebuhr, 
than  Egypt — which   we  know  only  by  ruins,  or  through  Rome. 

We  have  the  casual  testimony  of  antiquity  to  the  fact  that  the 
Roman  people  was  composed  of  the  Etrurian  or  Tuscan,  Latin, 
and  Sabine  or  Sabellian  races.t  This  city  grew  up  on  the  con- 
fines of  three  considerable  confederacies,  under  the  names  just 
mentioned,  varying,  according  to  times  and  circumstances,  in 
relative  strength  and  importance,  and  still  more  in  character  and 
institutions.  The  Latin  element,  although  judging  from  lan- 
guage, the  basis  of  the  whole,  was,  with  a  view  to  moral  effects, 
the  least  prominent ;  and  we  need  only  add,  that  there  is  every 
reason  to  believe  that  that  tract  of  country,  for  so  many  centu- 
ries laid  waste  by  malaria,  and  now  so  desolate,  was,  in  these 
remote  times,  extremely  populous  and  flourishing — much  more 
so  than  under  the  dominion  of  Rome.  But  it  is  in  the  union  of 
the  fierce,  rude,  and  warlike  mountaineers  of  Samnitic  origin, 
with  the  Tuscan  lucumon,  or  patrician  priest,  that  we  are  to 
seek  for  a  solution  of  the  great  problem  of  Roman  civilization. 

The  whole  constitution  of  society  among  the  Samnites  and 
Sabines  reposed,  as  it  did  in  Tuscany,  upon  aristocracy  and  re- 
ligion ;  but  their  aristocracy  was  not,  as  in  Tuscany,  surrounded 
with  multitudes  of  slaves  ;  and  their  religion,  instead  of  depend- 
ing on  the  memory  and  traditions  of  a  patrician  caste,  was  re- 
corded in  written  precepts.*  The  country  was  in  the  highest 
state  of  cultivation  ;  flourishing  fields  or  rich  pastures  were  seen 
upon  the  very  tops  of  their  mountains :  and  numerous  villages, 
instead  of  cities,  were  the  abode  of  an  immense  rural  population. 

*  We  believe  Herder  was  the  first  to  make  this  important  remark.     See  Philo- 
sophic der  Geschichte,  &c.,  IV.,  161. 
t  Floras,  1.  III.  18. 
t  Schlosser,  2  Th.  1.  abth.  270. 


550  ORIGIN,  HISTORY  AND    INFLUENCE 

The  aristocracy  were  not  oppressive,  because  their  lives  were  in- 
nocent and  their  manners  simple ;  with  few  or  scarcely  any 
slaves,  they  tilled  their  own  grounds  and  fed  their  own  flocks. 
Marriages  were  early  contracted  and  publicly  solemnized,  and 
their  wives,  chaste,  industrious,  and  above  all,  obedient,  were 
helps  meet  for  them  in  their  rustic  labors,  or  in  their  quiet  house- 
hold. Above  all,  they  were  devoted  to  agriculture  practically 
and  theoretically,  as  the  priesthood  of  the  Fratrcs  Arvales,  de- 
rived to  Rome  from  thence,  sufficiently  shows.  Creuzer  thinks, 
that  woman  had  a  hard  lot  there,  as  well  as  in  the  primitive 
Latium. 

This  element  of  the  Roman  character  is  illustrated  in  some  of 
the  most  remarkable  passages  of  the  early  history  of  the  Repub- 
lic, and  was  more  and  more  developed  during  the  Italian  wars, 
when  Rome,  under  Papirius  Cursor  and  his  successors,  began  to 
conquer  without  being  corrupted.  The  Sabines  were  the  warrior 
caste  of  the  new  state  ;  they  were  soon  united  in  it,  as  in  the  east, 
to  a  caste  of  priests. 

That  Rome  borrowed  from  Tuscany  some  of  the  external 
pomp  and  bravery  of  her  costume  and  ceremonial,  has  often  been 
repeated.  The  toga  prsetexta,  the  golden  crown,  the  sceptre 
with  the  eagle,  the  curule  chair,  the  axts  and  fasces  of  the  lictors, 
ensigns  of  power  that  passed  from  the  kings  to  the  consuls,  and 
even  the  triumph  itself,  was  derived  from  them.  But  the  inward 
influences  from  the  same  source  were  not  so  generally  perceived, 
or  not  sufficiently  appreciated.  Nobody  saw  them  so  distinctly 
as  to  affirm,  before  Niebuhr.  that  the  phenomena  could  be  ex- 
plained on  no  other  hypothesis  than  that  Rome  had  derived  her 
Tuscan  forms  of  all  sorts  from  a  Tuscan  prince,  and  was  at  one 
time  the  great  and  splendid  capital  of  a  powerful  Tuscan  state.* 
The  great  philologist  repeats  this  opinion  in  the  latest  edition  of 
his  work,  with  the  utmost  emphasis  and  deliberation,  at  the  same 
time  that  he  indirectly  retracts  some  of  the  views  on  this  subject 
when  he  was  much  younger,  which  he  admits  were  false  or  ex- 
aggerated. The  Roman  writers  whom  we  possess,  are  not  blind 
to  the  fact,  that  the  Tuscans  had  taught  their  ancestors  much  ; 
but  they  thought  it  was  merely  teaching.  They  did  not  know, 
(with  some  casual  and  unimportant  exceptions.)  that  by  an  ac- 
tual mixture  of  races,  it  was  become  nature,  and  that  the  warlike 
spirit  and  frugal  manners  of  the  conquerors  of  the  Samnites, 
were  not  more  surely  descended  to  them  from  those  very  Sam- 
nites with  the  blood  of  their  mothers  in  the  Legend  of  the  Rap, 
than  their  deep  reverence  for  the  mysteries  of  soothsaying,  the 
influence  of  the  augur  and  the  pontiff,  with  their  occult  science, 
the  scrupulous  attachment  to  forms,  the  very  shape  of  a  caste,  (so 
important  to  the  preservation  of  traditional  principles,)  which 

*  R.  G.  i.  402. 


OF  ROMAN  LEGISLATION.  551 

the  patricians  had  given  to  their  gentes,  their  reluctance  to  make 
a  change,  struggling  with  their  readiness  to  receive  admitted  im- 
provement ;  in  short,  the  oriental  color  that  so  deeply  tinges  the 
early  Roman  character,  and  left  its  impress  upon  it  long  after  the 
warlike  Sabine  propensities  had,  by  extinction  of  families  and 
other  causes,  obtained  the  mastery  in  their  conduct ;  that  these 
traits  so  very  peculiar  and  distinguishing,  we  say,  were  also  the 
voice  of  blood,  and  the  testimony  of  a  common  origin.  It  was 
recorded,  because  it  could  not  be  dissembled,  that  the  opulent 
youth  of  the  city  were  educated  by  Tuscan  masters,  in  all  the 
wisdom  of  those  Egyptians,  and  the  Libri  Rituales  were  there 
to  show  many  Roman  practices  of  the  highest  importance  in 
their  eyes,  were  borrowed  from  them  ;  but  these  very  facts,  the 
evidence  of  an  intimate  and  hereditary  connection,  were  regarded 
as  proof  only  of  a  comparatively  slight  and  superficial  intercourse. 
The  libri  rituales,  as  described  by  Festus,  speak  for  them- 
selves. They  remind  us  of  the  Mosaic  ritual :  "they  teach  the 
rites  with  which  cities  are  to  be  founded,  and  altars  and  temples 
dedicated ;  the  holiness  of  the  walls  of  towns ;  the  law  relating 
to  their  gates';  how  tribes,  wards,  (curia,)  centuries,  are  to  be 
distributed  ;  armies  organized  and  arrayed  /and  other  the  like 
things  relating  to  peace  and  war."  We  call  the  attention  of  our 
readers  to  the  comprehensiveness  and  importance  of  all  this — 
it  goes  to  the  very  bottom  of  the  whole  body  of  public  law,  civil 
and  military.  We  see  the  same  influence,  as  we  have  already 
had  occasion  to  remark,  extending  itself  over  the  very  soil  of  the 
Roman  territory,  and  making,  in  the  technical  language  of  their 
augury,  one  vast  temple  of  it.  It  was  consecrated  by  the  aus- 
pices ;  it  could  become  the  property  only  of  one  who  had  the 
auspices,  that  is,  a  patrician  or  Roman,  properly  so  called :  once 
set  apart  and  conveyed  away,  it  was  irrevocably  alienated,  so 
that  sales  of  the  domain  were  guaranteed  by  religion,  and  it  was 
sacrilegious  to  establish  a  second  colony  on  the  place  dedicated 
to  a  first.  Auspices  could  be  taken  no  where  else  but  on  some 
spot  which  they  had  rendered  sacred.  The  city,  by  its  original 
inauguration,  was  also  a  temple — its  gates  and  walls  were  holy; 
its  pomoerium  was  unchangeable,  until  higher  auspices  had  su- 
perseded those  under  which  it  was  at  first  marked  out.  Every 
spot  of  ground  might  become,  by  the  different  uses  to  which  it 
was  applied — sacred,  (sacer,)  holy,  (sanctus,)  religious,  (religio- 
sus.)  To  the  assembly  of  the  Curice,  the  presence  of  the  augurs 
was,  of  course,  indispensable  ;  that  of  the  Centuries  could  not  be 
held,  unless  the  augurs  and  two  pontiffs  assisted  at  it,*  as  it  was 
dissolved  instantly,  at  their  bidding,  on  the  occurrence  of  any 
sinister  omen,  were  it  but  the  flight  of  an  obscene  bird,  (si  bubo 

*  Niebuhr,  R.  G.  ii.  253. 


ORIGIN,  HISTORY  AND    INFLUENCE 

volasset.)  The  first  agrimensor}  says  Niebuhr,*  was  an  augur, 
accompanied  by  Tuscan  priests  or  their  scholars.  From  the 
foundation  of  the  city,  the  sacredness  of  property  was  shadowed 
forth  in  the  worship  of  the  god  Terminus,  and  that  of  contracts 
protected  by  an  apotheosis  of  Faith.  In  short,  the  worthy  Ro- 
man lived,  moved,  and  had  his  being,  as  the  Greek  writers  ob- 
serve, in  religion — a  religion,  too,  as  peculiar  as  every  thing  else 
in  his  situation. 

There  is  a  noted  passage  of  Dionysius,  wherein  he  makes 
this  remark.t  He  is  charmed  to  find  in  the  (primitive)  worship 
ot  Rome,  noue  of  those  prodigious,  and  humanly  speaking,  ob- 
scene and  abominable  things,  which  disgusted  the  Greek  philos- 
opher in  the  mythology  of  his  fathers — no  corybantes  with  their 
clashing  cymbals  and  frantic  convulsions,^ — no  howlings  for  the 
loss  of  Proserpine — no  mutilations  of  Caelum  or  Saturn.  The 
priests,  also,  were  a  sort  of  magistracy,  not  drawn  by  lot,  but 
elected  by  the  Curiae,  two  to  each,  men  fifty  years  old  and  up- 
wards, distinguished  for  high  birth  and  exemplary  lives.  The 
Romans,  says  Creuzer,  embraced  and  long  retained  the  primitive 
Pelasgic  religion,  that  once  prevailed  generally  in  Italy — the 
worship  of  those  old  gods,  still  carried  round  in  the  Circensian 
pomps.  These,  with  the  augurs,  extispices,  <fcc,  were  long  ago 
forgotten  in  Greece.  There,  he  continues,  instead  of  primeval 
faith  and  reverence,  there  had  sprung  up  out  of  the  mythology 
of  Homer  and  Hesiod  the  splendors  of  a  sensual  anthropomor- 
phism. In  Etruria  and  Rome,  the  poetical  element  was  always 
subordinate  to  the  mystical ;  for  bards  and  artists  never  exercised 
the  same  control  over  a  religion  established  by  the  state,  and 
superintended  by  ancient  and  serious  priests.  They  looked  be- 
yond Olympus,  into  the  depths  of  the  heavens  and  the  earth. 
The  pious  and  worthy  fathers  of  the  calm  and  thoughtful  La- 
tium,  did  not  suffer  themselves  to  be  transported  by  the  gay  fan- 
cies of  the  Greek  aoi<5ai,  beyond  the  homely  circle  of  the  religion 
of  their  fathers.  The  pious  old  Roman  adored  and  served  his 
god  for  one  hundred  and  seventy  years  together,  without  an 
image. §  Even  after  idols  stood  in  the  sacred  niches,  the  worship 
of  the  High  Vesta  savored  of  that  primitive  simplicity.  Ever 
after  he  was  satisfied,  in  her  still  holy  house,  with  the  bright 
flame  of  the  pure  fire  without  an  image.  And  when  in  the  earth- 
quake, the  mysterious  influence  of  dark  powers  made  itself  felt, 
the  Romans  still  adored  and  believed  without  examining,  and 

*  Niebuhr,  R.  G.  ii.  703.  19 

t  L.  ii.  c.  19. 

t  Creuzer,  Symbolik.  ii.  980,  remarks  that  the  Salii  are  an  oriental  institution. 

§  Plutarch  in  Numa,  8.  p.  65,  6.  Heyne  doubts,  but  see  the  learned  note  of 
Creuzer,  Symbolik.  ii.  993,  and  what  Posidonius,  (ibi.  laudat.)  says  of  the  excel- 
lent character  of  old  Rome. 


OF  ROMAN  LEGISLATION.  553 

prayed  to  no  ascertained  or  known  God.*  Had  he  never  gone 
astray  after  false  and  foreign  gods,  had  he  not  ambitiously  given 
to  its  exterior  the  polished  air  and  forms  of  Greece,  there  might 
have  sprung"  up  out  of  this  old,  mysterious,  nature-exploring, 
serious  and  moral  religion — as  a  great  writer  observes! — from 
the  deep  roots  of  this  nationality  founded  on  religion — an  art,  a 
tragic  muse,  that  would  have  diffused  their  peculiar  spirit  and 
worth  over  other  times  and  peoples,  instead  of  the  imperfect  and 
imitative  efforts  on  a  foreign  soil,  which  we  must  now  rather 
deplore  than  admire. 

Thus  predisposed  by  original  complexion,  as  well  as  by  re- 
ligious discipline  and  opinions,  to  mysticism,  the  Latin  fathers 
of  Rome  were  prepared  to  receive  the  deepest  impressions  from 
the  admixture  of  the  Tuscan  race,  with  its  singular  civilization, 
impressed  with  an  oriental  character.  Religion  was  the  life  of 
that  civilization;  but  not  in  the  form  of  a  natural  sentiment 
merely,  or  an  easy  and  obedient  faith.  It  was  become  a  regular 
science,  though  still  a  mysterious  one — its  priesthood  was  a 
political  privilege — in  short,  it  was  the  very  basis  of  the  whole 
constitution  of  society.  Unfortunately  the  language  of  Tuscany 
was  so  entirely  peculiar,  that  even  in  an  age  which  has  found  a 
key  for  the  hieroglyphics  of  Egypt,  it  is  almost  given  up  in  des- 
pair. But  the  most  remarkable  social  phenomenon  by  far — 
with  the  exception  of  Rome — which  the  history  of  ancient  Italy 
presents,  (for  so  the  existence  of  Tuscany  is,)  could  not  pass 
away  without  leaving  many  traces  behind  it.  The  genius  of 
the  people  seems  to  have  been  inclined  to  melancholy  and  super- 
stition. The  volcanic  nature  about  them,  produced  all  mon- 
strous, all  prodigious  things ;  they  looked  with  anxious  curiosity 
into  the  signs  of  the  future — they  sought  and  studied  them,  es- 
pecially, in  lightning  and  thunder,  in  the  bowels  of  animals,  and 
in  the  flight,  the  feeding,  and  the  voices  of  birds.  They  had 
digested  systematically  what  Creuzer  calls  a  "sacred  ornitholo- 
gy"— and  it  was  in  their  schools  only  that  the  augurs  and  aus- 
pices of  Rome  could  be  taught  their  science  Tuscany  thus  be- 
came as  renowned  as  Egypt  for  her  superstitions,  and  a  father  of 
the  church  describes  her  as  the  great  mother  and  nurse  of  them.t 
But  in  reducing  the  primitive  religion  of  Italy  to  a  system,  she 
corrupted  its  simplicity.  A  ritual  abounding  in  forms,  and  pre- 
cise in  enforcing  them,  altered  the  genius  of  the  people.  Their 
worship,  and  indeed  their  whole  life,  became  full  of  gorgeous 
pomps  and  mummeries,  and  the  word  ceremony,  derived  from 

*  Aul.  Gell.  ii.  28.  credere  quam  scire,  as  Tacitus,  (de  Morib.  Germ.)  has  it. 
t  We  refer  -with  pleasure  to  the  admirable  remarks  of  M.  le  Baron  (as  we  hear) 
A.  W.  von  Schlegel.    Dramatische  Kunst  und  Litteratur.  ii.  2L 
X  Arnobius  apud  Creuzer,  Symb.  ii.  954. 

vol.  i, — 70 


554  ORIGIN,  HISTORY  AND    INFLUENCE 

Caere,  one  of  their  cities,  will  attest,  to  the  latest  times,  their  taste 
for  what  was  formal,  studied,  stately,  and  mysterious. 

The  union  then  of  the  elements,  which  we  have  thus  attempted 
to  develop,  formed  the  character  of  the  Roman  people,  and  the 
body  of  maxims,  doctrines,  and  opinions,  that  constitutes  their 
law,  public  and  private.  It  is  thus,  for  instance,  that  the  Tuscan 
love  of  symbols,  and  punctilious  observance  of  forms,  are  im- 
pressed, as  we  have  seen,  upon  the  ancient  practice  of  her  tribu- 
nals and  modes  of  conveyancing.* 

We  trust  that  this  view  of  the  subject  will  not  have  been  un- 
interesting or  uninstructive  to  the  philosophical  reader,  to  whom 
such  studies  may  be  new.  But  we  must  hasten  to  a  conclusion, 
after  adding  in  a  few  words  by  way  of  recapitulation,  an  ideal 
portraiture  of  the  Pater  Romanus,  or  full  Roman  citizen,  under 
the  old  law.  It  was  thus  that  Niebuhr  correctly  translates  the 
phrase  in  the  lines  of  Virgil : 

Dum  domus  Mneds,  Capitoli  immobile  saxum. 
Accolet  imperiitmque  Pater  Romanus  habebit.t 

The  Roman  legislator,  according  to  Dionysius  of  Halicarnas- 
sus,  built  the  state  upon  the  family,  or  more  philosophically 
speaking,  the  state  grew  up  of  itself  out  of  the  family,  and  fa- 
ther of  a  family  is  synonymous  with  him  who  enjoyed,  without 
any  diminution,  all  the  jura  Quiritium.  Patricians,  patres, 
were  the  whole  caste  of  those  entitled  to  such  rights,  each,  when 
sui  juris,  or  not  in  the  power  of  any  other,  being  a  paterfami- 
lias. 

This  image  of  patriarchal  authority  was  preserved  with  care, 
and  only  enlarged,  as  we  have  said,  in  the  constitution  of  the 
state  itself.  The  law,  in  its  turn,  clothed  the  Roman  father,  at 
home,  with  her  own  majesty.  Seated  upon  his  domestic  throne, 
or  tribunal,  he  exercises  without  appeal,  and  beyond  even  the 
veto  of  the  tribune,  a  despotic  authority  in  his  family.  He  has 
power  of  life  and  death  over  his  wife,  his  child,  his  slave,  his 
debtor — they  are  his  money,  as  we  have  seen.  Three  terrible 
words  of  the  law  sum  up  his  imperium,  in  these  four  relations, 
potestas,  manus,  mancipium.  It  is  not  by  way  of  implying 
any  restraint  upon  his  dominion,  that  the  XII  Tables  expressly 
authorize  or  enjoin  the  making  away  with  deformed  infants.  No 
office,  no  virtue,  no  power  in  the  state,  no  glory  in  arms,  releases 
his  son  from  this  natural,  and  unless  his  master  will  it  otherwise, 
eternal  allegiance.  He  may  marry  a  wife,  by  permission,  but  he 
shall  not  be  capable  of  holding  property  to  maintain  her ;  he 

*  See  the  picturesque  description  in  Gibbon's  44th  chap.,  and  what  we  have  said 
of  the  adiones  legis. 
t  The  text  is  to  be  found,  JEneid,  ix.  448, 9,  and  the  commentary,  R.  G.  344,  a. 


OP  ROMAN  LEGISLATION.  555 

may  beget  children,  but  they  shall  be  bondmen  born  of  his  own 
lord.  As  for  the  slave,  he  may  be  cut  up  to  feed  the  fish  in  his 
ponds,  and  both  he  and  the  child,  if  they  commit  any  trespass, 
may  be  abandoned  to  the  arbitrary  discretion  of  the  injured  party, 
in  order  to  release  their  owner  from  liability.  The  fate  of  the 
poor  debtor  we  have  just  read,  in  that  horrendum  carmen,  as  it 
was  well  called.  This  relation  (as  money  has  been  at  the  bottom 
of  most  revolutions)  gave  rise  to  unceasing  contests  between  the 
ruling  caste  and  the  plebs.  The  patriarchs  obstinately,  and,  for 
centuries  together,  successfully  maintained  the  principle  and  the 
practice  of  the  nexus.  The  house  of  our  Pater  Romanus  is 
not  only  his  own  castle,  it  is  the  dungeon  of  enslaved  debtors 
toiling  under  the  lash.  Livy's  words  are  quoted  by  Niebuhr, 
whose  commentary  is  powerfully  written,  and  presents  a  fright- 
ful picture  of  oppression.  The  eloquent  Roman  informs  us,  that 
men  "adjudged  according  to  their  'bond'  to  slavery,  were  seen 
daily,  by  troops,  dragged  from  the  forum  to  their  ergastula  ;  that 
the  houses  of  the  nobles  were  filled  with  debtors  in  chains,  and 
that  wherever  a  patrician  dwelt,  there  was  a  private  prison."* 

Towards  the  foreigner,  he  is  altogether  without  sympathy. 
Stranger  and  enemy  are  the  same,  in  his  old  language.  With 
the  consciousness  or  the  instincts  of  his  high  destinies,  he  con- 
siders every  means  consecrated  by  such  an  end  as  the  aggran- 
dizement of  Rome  :  and  wo  to  those  who  stand  in  the  way  of  it. 
He  pleads,  when  made  prisoner  in  battle,  and  released  to  pro- 
cure a  peace,  that  he  may  be  sent  back  to  certain  torture  or  ser- 
vitude— if  he  have  saved  an  army  under  his  command,  by  an 
unauthorized  treaty,  he  begs  to  atone  for  his  officiousness  with 
his  life — he  puts  his  son  to  death,  if  he  gain  a  victory  at  the  ex- 
pense of  discipline — how  shall  he  feel  for  enemies,  created,  pre- 
destined to  become  his  slaves  ?  Accordingly,  he  destroys  without 
compunction — ravages  whole  tracts  of  country,  sacks  and  burns 
cities,  fills  his  camp  with  plunder,  and  sells  (where  it  is  not  more 
politic  to  spare  and  colonize)  into  bondage,  to  traffickers  who 
follow  his  bloody  footsteps  like  vultures,  all — man,  woman,  and 
child — whom  the  sword  has  not  cut  off.  The  bravest  and  finest 
of  his  captives  shall  one  day  be  reserved  for  the  nameless  horrors 
of  the  amphitheatre,  the  only  pastime  that  really  interests  him — 
a  pastime  fit  for  a  horde  of  cannibals,  such  as  a  demon  of  hell 
might  invent  for  the  amusement  of  fiends. 

Our  Pater  Romanus,  however,  does  not  always  oppress  the 
poor  and  the  weak ;  he  sometimes,  nay,  frequently,  serves  them, 
from  motives  of  policy  especially.  His  own  clients  and  retain- 
ers are  under  his  guardian  care,  of  course  ;  it  is  the  condition 

*  T.  Li  v.  vi.  36.  Gregatim  quotidie  de  foro  addictos  duci,  &c.  Niebuhr's 
manner  of  treating  the  subject  of  the  next,  is  in  the  last  degree  masterly.  R.  G, 
I.  600. 


556  ORIGIN,  HISTORY  AND    INFLUENCE 

and  the  reward  of  their  fealty.  But  he  emancipates  his  slave 
readily,  and  so  makes  him  one  of  his  own  gens  or  lineage,  bear- 
ing a  patrician  name,  and  entitled  to  all  the  privileges  of  a  citi- 
zen. He  sits  in  the  forum,  upon  a  sort  of  throne,  or  walks  up 
and  down  among  the  people,  glad  to  give  legal  advice  gratis  to 
whoever  will  ask  for  it.  Even  his  most  destructive  conquests 
are  made  in  the  spirit  of  civilization,  and  directed  to  perpetual 
possession,  regular  administration,  and  unity  of  government — 
and  hence  his  admirable  colonial  system — by  which  subjugated 
nations  are  adopted  as  his  subjects,  rather  than  extirpated  as  ene- 
mies ;  and  his  laws  and  his  language  are  diffused  over  the  whole 
earth. 

Every  thing  inspires  him  with  ideas  of  superiority  ;  and  his 
self-esteem  is  immense,  but  calm,  enlightened,  and  majestic. 
He  is  a  fatalist ;  but  his  fatalism  too,  as  always  happens,  is  self- 
conceit  in  disguise.  He  never  dreams  of  being  vanquished  in 
the  end,  though  he  frequently  is  at  the  beginning  of  a  war,  and 
bears  it  with  perfect  composure.  He  has  no  faith  in  impulses  ; 
he  works  by  system,  and  relies  on  general  laws  in  every  thing — 
in  war  especially, — he  has  "organized  victory,"  as  they  said  of 
Carnot,  and  is  deliberately  brave  by  calculation.  If  he  will 
deliver  up  his  own  consuls  to  an  enemy,  stripped  and  pinioned 
for  a  sacrifice,  what  will  he  not  do  with  their  great  men  ?  He 
will  expose  them  in  his  cruel  triumph  to  the  "rabble's  curse" 
and  scoffs,  and  then  murder  them ;  he  will  make  the  title  of  king 
a  jest ;  they  shall  be  his  vassals  ;  one  of  them  shall  puta  liberty- 
cap  upon  his  shorn  head,  and  glory  in  being  his  freedman  ;  an- 
other he  will  scourge  and  crucify  like  a  bond-slave. 

In  private  life,  he  is  grave  and  austere,  simple,  sober,  indus- 
trious, patient  of  toil,  hardship,  and  pain.  His  conjugal  love  is 
none  of  the  most  rapturous,  and  his  marriage  is  therefore  of  the 
kind  called  "good,"  not  "delicious,"* — yet  he  is  perfectly  satis- 
fied with  it — for  this  whole  period  of  five  centuries  passes  away 
without  a  single  change  of  wives.  Yet  he  would  almost  as  wil- 
lingly adopt  a  child  as  have  one  of  his  own,  and  does  not  like 
too  many  of  them  on  any  terms.  He  looks  with  contempt  on 
all  arts,  trades,  and  professions,  which  he  abandons  to  his  freed- 
men,  reserving  to  himself  war  and  agriculture  alone  ;  but  he  is 
very  frugal,  and  decidedly  avaricioust — though  as  yet  his  ava- 
rice takes  the  shape  rather  of  parsimony  than  rapacity  ;  but  the 
day  is  coming  when  he  shall  be  as  insatiable  as  the  grave,  and 
alieni  appetens  sui  profusus  will  be  the  device  of  his  degenerate 
order.  He  is  deeply  religious,  in  his  own  way,  controlled  even 
in  the  weightiest  matters  by  the  most  grovelling  superstition — 

*  La  Rochefoucault. 

t  See  Cato  de  R.  R.,  and  his  Life,  in  Plutarch.  The  old  censor,  in  point  of 
good  husbandry,  was  a  Roman  Franklin. 


OF  ROMAN  LEGISLATION.  557 

faithful  to  oaths  and  to  promises  made  in  proper  form,  and  pro- 
foundly impressed  with  reverence  for  the  law,  which  he  is  sel- 
dom persuaded  to  break,  although  he  is  apt  to  evade  it  by  fraud- 
ulent interpretation.  So,  if  ever  he  violates  the  faith  of  treaties 
it  is  by  sophistry  and  not  by  force ;  special  pleading  is  the  great 
instrument  of  his  policy  ;  and  he  thinks  the  gods  satisfied,  if  men 
are  only  argued  out  of  their  rights  with  decent  plausibility.*  His 
whole  history  shows  that  his  courage  is  equalled  by  his  conduct, 
and  his  strength  by  his  cunning. 

In  politics,  he  is  strenuously  conservative  ;  he  adheres  to  es- 
tablished institutions  as  long  as  they  will  hold  together  and  work 
well ;  but  he  is  not  a  bigot,  and  abandons  them  as  soon  as  he 
perceives  that  the  time  is  really  come  ;  neither  does  he  scruple 
to  adopt  from  his  enemies  weapons  and  methods  which  experi- 
ence has  shown  him  to  be  better  than  his  own.  One  thing  is 
most  remarkable  in  his  history :  he  never  seeks  a  treaty,  nor 
even  comes  to  terms,  with  a  foreigner  successful  in  arms,  and 
still  threatening  war  or  resistance — he  always  does  so  with  his 
plebeian  brethren,  who  drive  him  from  post  to  post  until  he  fairly 
opens  the  door  of  the  city  to  them  all.  He  loves  power  by  the 
instinct  of  his  nature,  and  for  its  own  sake — not  for  the  pomps 
and  vanities  that  surround  it — this  simplicity  distinguishes  him 
from  the  kings  of  the  barbarians. 

Long  protected  by  an  appeal  to  the  people,  his  person  is  at 
length  rendered  inviolable  by  the  Portian  and  Sempronian  laws. 
But  it  is  not  himself  only  that  is  sacred :  he  consecrates  the 
state ;  he  consecrates  the  city  with  its  walls  and  gates ;  he  conse- 
crates the  territory  around  it.  Every  thing  about  him  is  sancti- 
fied to  his  use,  and  his  very  property  is  not  like  other  peoples' ; 
he  holds  it  ex  jure  Quiritium.  Thus  descended,  thus  constitu- 
ted, thus  disciplined,  with  such  a  character,  and  under  such  laws, 
he  has  from  God  the  grandest  mission  that  was  ever  confided  to 
merely  human  hands.  He  is  trained  up  for  centuries  in  civil 
broils  and  border  warfare,  that  he  may  learn  to  conquer  the 
world,  and  in  disputes  about  rights  that  he  may  know  how  to 
give  it  laws.  The  day  is  coming,  when  those  laws,  converted 
as  it  were  to  Christianity,  shall  breathe  a  higher,  a  purer,  and  a 
holier  spirit ;  and  when  the  cross,  which  is  now  the  instrument 
of  his  most  terrific  despotism,  shall  be  the  earnest  of  a  new  order 
of  triumphs  in  Constantine,  and  the  symbol  of  the  most  perfect 
civilization  that  has  ever  blessed  mankind— a  civilization  found- 
ed upon  peace  on  earth,  good  will  to  men,  and  equality  before 
the  law. 

*  See  the  whole  case  of  the  Caudine  Forks,  and  especially  the  words  put  into 
the  mouth  of  the  Consul  Posthumius  by  Livy,  1.  IX.  c.  9. — though  they  were 
right  in  the  main  question. — See  Vattel. 


558  ORIGIN  AND  HISTORY  OP  ROMAN  LEGISLATION. 

We  have  thus  accomplished  one  of  the  objects  we  proposed  to 
ourselves  when  we  began  this  paper.  We  have  brought  into 
immediate  contrast  the  Roman  Law  as  it  originally  stood,  with 
the  same  law  as  it  has  been  transmitted  to  us  in  the  collection  of 
Justinian — the  jus  civile  of  the  XII  Tables,  and  the  period  im- 
mediately after  that,  with  the  jus  gentium  of  Paullus  and  Ulpian, 
and  still  more  of  Domat  and  D'Aguesseau — in  a  word,  the  code 
fashioned  by  the  Tuscan  priest,  with  the  same  code  remodelled 
by  Christian  potentates.  It  has  been  our  purpose,  as  more  suit- 
able to  such  a  work  as  this,  to  speak  rather  of  the  spirit  of  the 
law,  than  of  the  law  itself. 

But,  in  consequence  of  the  inordinate  length  of  this  article,  we 
are  constrained  to  omit — perhaps  to  reserve  for  a  future  occa- 
sion— all  that  we  proposed  saying  of  the  progress  of  Roman  juris- 
prudence towards  that  consummation,  from  the  time  it  first  became 
matter  of  public  instruction  and  scientific  cultivation,  up  to  the 
reign  and  the  labors  of  Justinian.  That  investigation  would 
have  comprehended  some  of  the  most  interesting  and  difficult 
questions  in  the  history  of  the  law — as  the  Lex  iEbutia,  and 
the  origin  of  the  Edict  of  the  Prsetor,  in  its  most  extensive  ap- 
plication— both  of  them  unfortunately  still  problematical — there- 
sponsa  prudentum — and  the  origin  and  difference  of  the  Sects, 
with  the  characters  of  Labeo  and  Capito — of  Nerva  and  Sabi- 
nus — the  legislation  of  the  republic  against  bribery,  extortion, 
and  peculation,  and  the  Cornelian  laws — the  legislation  of  Au- 
gustus in  the  Leges  Juliae  and  Papia-Poppaea — Salvius  Julia- 
nus  and  the  Perpetual  Edict — some  notice  of  the  great  lights  of 
the  third  period,  or  the  Augustan  age  of  the  law,  the  five  juris- 
consults of  the  Theodosian  constitution,  who  have  been  well 
characterized  as  "the  last  thinkers  of  antiquity  ;"  and  finally  of 
the  merits  of  Justinian  and  his  commissioners,  who  certainly  im- 
proved the  spirit  of  the  law,  and  as  certainly  hurt  its  forms  by  a 
most  slovenly  compilation. 

We  will  only  add,  with  regard  to  Mr.  Schrader's  new  edition 
of  the  Corpus  Juris  Civilis,  that  we  have  found  great  conveni- 
ence in  the  use  of  his  Institutes,  and  heartily  bid  him  God-speed 
for  the  yet  unpublished  part  of  the  work. 


[END   OF   VOL.    I.] 


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